


Sell Yr Soul For Rock'N'Roll

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Bands, Drugs, F/M, Femslash, Het, Music, Music Creation, Past Relationship(s), Rock and Roll, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6278536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part one of the AU band idea. Six, AKA Natasi Harvey, isn't quite sure of her place in the universe, loves Baltar even though it's a bad idea, and plans to use her fame to further the Cylon plan. Did I mention it's an AU? Good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I: Natasi Harvey

**Part I: Natasi Harvey**

_Spinning Rock: The Cryptic Return of Krypter_  
by Callista Henderson

Like most Caprican women who've picked up an instrument, written a song, or just waited for hours outside a stadium to hear a band, I own a copy of _The Brass Ear_. I've sung along to "Something Not Inside" and I played "Givin' All to You" as a breakup anthem. And yet, despite adoring the sound, recognizing the lyrical power, and seeing the influence, I've never been able to quite connect to Krypter's acclaimed lead singer, rock legend Laura Roslin.

I never wanted to be Laura Roslin -- during my failed rock diva phase, I wanted to be one of her heirs, like Lyzz Fair or Lovely Courtnay -- but she was cool. Even during the era when she spent all of her time hanging out with Bill Adama (and her lowest point, the oh-so-Oedipal moment when her teenaged stepson asked her to the prom and her flustered response was, "maybe in ten years, okay?") and making _Destiny Ship_ with a lineup that screamed out-of-touch and high on something other than life.

She was cool and she was intense, and then right about the time when her former guitar hero and conservative senatorial candidate Rich Adar died three days after the Cylon Riots, she disappeared. Laura Roslin went AWOL. Not into seclusion for a well-timed album about the Adar years, not into rehab, though given her stance on chamalla, this would seem obvious -- she was just gone. Not even Ba-Noh's plea to do a duet of their award-winning song about Adar and Roslin's troubled relationship earned more than a "We regret that Laura is unable to do this" from her label.

I agree with Ba-Noh (there's a first for everything, right?) that hearing Laura sing "Dear Me, Love You" would be wonderful and chilling -- the part of me that cried about the botched abortion in "Something Not Inside" wants to hear the lady's take on this one. You Too almost carries the song -- it's lyrically brilliant, and the guitar riff is an elegy to the era -- but Ba-Noh can't quite convince me he should be singing the regrets of a man who lost this she "throws out her arms and says, give me a choice and tell me my fate."

And now Laura Roslin and Krypter are back, and while I understand the male-dominant cries of "stunt" for an all-woman band still using the name Krypter -- one that we'd given to Roslin's youth and romance -- there's an authenticity and edginess to the choice I respect. Rather than turn herself into the passive woman who wants to know her faith, she's beating back the legend of Laura as part of Laura-and-Rich and listening to her critics.

The one leaked track -- security at C-1 Records is tighter than at the spaceport or the site of the former Capitol -- reveals a stripped-down sound, but one that's rich with emotion and a surprisingly talented lead guitarist. Sharon Valerii, otherwise known as Boomer, is out of nowhere. She was working with KT's band, Buckos -- which has the dubious distinction of giving us Sam Anders's solo career -- but nothing from Buckos signaled Boomer had it in her.

It won't be _The Brass Ear_ and Laura Roslin will never again be the rock musician who practically deep-throated the mike stand on Picon, demanding not just respect but adoration for her songwriting and vocal skills. But if _Skinjob_ sounds as good as its previews, her new incarnation will have even more allure and some personal appeal to add to it.

* * *

Being a Cylon rock star had some potential benefits, Natasi thought as she watched Laura Roslin field questions about Krypter and _Skinjob_ with steely good humor. The press loved her; she had that presence that made a good musician into a great performance.

But as for herself, Natasi was thinking that Cylon technology had some pluses. If she overdosed on drugs, she got to come back two days later, no rehab needed. In fact, most messy rock ways of death, like the disease that had claimed Laura Roslin's most famous lover, and the car accident that had killed Natasi's idol, Annie Wilson from The Dilettantes, would be a temporary inconvenience.

Of course, that only worked if d.Anna was willing to cover for Natasi, but so far they seemed to be in accord with each other.

Two frakking Cylons in one high-profile band. The odds were astronomical, and Natasi wasn't sure there weren't three. Sharon, their timid little guitarist out of nowhere, was a little too good. She was the first to click into Laura's very distinctive sound, and a little too good at what she did.

Then again, what self-respecting Cylon would nickname herself Boomer?

"Why keep the name Krypter?" some woman was asking. "The original lineup only lasted for three years and with the death of Rich Adar four years ago, it must bring up painful memories."

"Good question," Laura said, throwing her head back. Natasi figured she was really tired of answering questions about the album name. Natasi could have given her a few new twists on the answer, but she didn't think Laura would want to protect actual biological Cylons if forced to. "Rich and I had a bond that can't be duplicated, that's true, but as long as I've been in music, I've been part of a band. This band. And I hope to die a member of this band, even if the band doesn't have a single member in common with the lineup on stage today..."

Natasi snorted as the music press rumbled with some kind of awed approval. Smoothly done. "She just let us know we're all replaceable," she pointed out to d.Anna with a snort. "And that our jobs will probably be taken by jailbait."

"Possibly even boy jailbait if this all-woman thing doesn't work out," d.Anna agreed. "But remind me again, how much was that job at the makeup counter paying you again, Natasi?"

"More than your faux-hardcore bartending gig, bitch," Natasi snarled. "I worked on commission, remember?"

"Femme sellout," d.Anna muttered, smiling as the lights suddenly came up on her. "And a keyboardist, too."

"Bassists are stuck-up, just FYI," Natasi growled before breaking into a winning smile.

After all, they were part of the most powerful female rock band in the Twelve Colonies. Laura Roslin was a legend, and she'd listened to them all play for six hours straight in a t-shirt that had probably belonged to the greatest front man of the last two decades, and jeans that screamed real before telling them they were already in.

The press was part of the deal, and Natasi wasn't going to back out now. She was in until the government dragged her away from being a skinjob or Laura dumped them all and went to smoke up with yet another washed-up actor, rocker, or activist type.

Even with another secret skinjob in the band, Natasi was thinking life was pretty good.

Her phone buzzed against her hip, and Natasi quietly slipped it out to see who'd texted her.

_cant w8 2 frak my rock* <3 gb_

So it wasn't poetry. Natasi was still frakking crazy for GB, AKA Gaius Baltar, the genius behind the C-1 Records, who was banking Laura Roslin's career was about to make a serious comeback and bring up her new band with it.

And he kept sending her these kinds of messages, so life was definitely good.

* * *

He was in her deep and hard and _good_ , better than anything Natasi could think about.

Not that she was thinking. She was straddling GB, frakking him with her head tilted back and mouth open.

No thinking. Thinking was bad and he was giving it to her, making all these little groaning noises. Reaching up and touching her breasts, resting his hand on her sweaty, warm thigh.

Natasi needed him, loved him. He made her feel like something beautiful and hot. He'd seen her and d.Anna, back when she was Deanna and about thirty times less stuck up, and they'd frakked in the hall behind the stage, his head between her breasts, whispering filthy little endearments.

GB was the first man who was so confident about himself that he didn't treat her like an unattainable object, a pre-rejecting bitch goddess that they wanted to frak but wouldn't dream of bothering.

That and God, he was tireless. He loved every little thing about her body, and he took a craftsman's pleasure in watching her come.

Just like she was doing right now, moaning and spasming while GB took the initiative.

He just flipped her over with a lazy, vicious little frak of a smile and took her hard and fast, using her body with abandon. Enough that Natasi almost came again with it, and ached wantonly as he pulled out of her with another cheeky smirk.

"If anyone ribs you for your performance, darling, just tell me and I'll be _happy_ to set them straight," GB said, patting her shoulder. "Because you are a virtuoso."

Natasi rolled away from him, looking for her clothes. The downside of GB's confidence was that it was a cover to say blandly cruel things and know he could get away with it.

"Thank you for taking my concerns about my future so seriously, GB," she said icily, pulling on last night's blouse and skirt and trying not to feel distaste.

GB snorted. "Natasi, darling, beloved, view of the morning," GB said, stretching with a big smirk on his face. "Why are you so worried about the punters and the reviews? It doesn't matter how good you are. Laura just has to put on her grande dame of rock and roll shtick and make a few noises about Cylon rights and we'll all be very rich and very happy."

"Nice, GB, very nice," Natasi said. She'd told him -- more than once -- that she was pro-Cylon, and GB had told her that he thought Cylons were basically the same as humans, but apparently that was more GB grandstanding. "Is all that matters to you wealth and privilege?"

"Yes," GB said. "I enjoy being rich. I enjoy all that goes with it. Everyone does. Anyone who tells you differently -- even that middle-aged redheaded harridan -- is telling lies."

Natasi snorted viciously. "You're a smart guy, GB," she said, looking at herself in the mirror and wondering how basically every last flaw was at its most blatant during her morning once-overs at his penthouse. "Why do you insist on talking like a racist, sexist piece of crap?"

"Because then no one will mistake me as a smart man, or someone who cares," GB said cheerfully. "I might indeed care, darling. I may care passionately, but no one will hold me to the high standards of a man who does."

"I'm out of here," Natasi said. "I cannot stand to hear another minute of your bullshit, GB. It's bad enough that you mock me for trying to hold you to any standard, but the way you talk about yourself..."

Natasi walked out. She picked up her coat in the entryway, pulled on her boots, and ignored any wheedling sounds from GB as she strode away, down the stairs, into the street, and onto the next cab.

She was so sure it was him when her phone rang that she answered it with an angry, "What? What do we need to talk about?"

"What crawled up your butt and died, Nasi?" Boomer asked, sounding taken aback. "Laura's amped about the press conference and invited us all over for a pancake lunch thing. Also I think to talk about the weak songs for the first of the War Memorial concerts next week, but you know Laura."

"Food first, bonding second, devastating, soul-destroying critique to be doled out as needed," Natasi said with a gallows snicker. "She's making us pancakes? Who taught her the recipe, Janyce Gopplin?"

There was a quick pause on the other end of the line.

"Her aunt Kathleen," Boomer said with a sheepish tone in her voice.

"You're already over there?" Natasi asked. She knew that the girl-leaning part of the band all lusted after Laura Roslin, but the sapphic tendencies were getting ridiculous. Unless... "Is everyone over there?"

"No, I just ended up crashing on Laura's couch because we were up late trying to rough out some jams and by the time we'd gotten done, it was two-thirty in the morning and I didn't feel like taking a cab home so I stayed and then I woke up and she was wearing a robe and fuzzy slippers and making orange juice like we hadn't knocked back a fifth of ambrosia," Boomer said. "Chill out, paranoia princess. We haven't been thinking up ways to kick you out of the band."

"Thank you for not letting that die, Boomer," Natasi said sourly. "I'll be over there, um. soon."

She turned to the driver, who had been listening with great interest to her private conversations, rolled her eyes, and shrugged.

"37th and Oceanline," Natasi said. "Try not to crash the cab, okay?"

"You got it," the driver said.

* * *

Except for the forbidding and very necessary privacy fence, Laura Roslin's oceanfront home was surprisingly cozy and relaxed. It was a four bedroom with a big basement that served as practice space, with a great big deck. Big enough, but private parties at Laura's house necessarily topped out at about fifty or seventy-five, if that.

Natasi liked it. She would have liked it more if she didn't feel like an interloper every time she knocked on the door.

"Hi, Nasi," Boomer's cheerful voice greeted her as the door opened and the smell of cooking food and chaos wafted out. "Ignore the mess. We were in a creative frenzy, you know. KT's twenty minutes out in traffic and d.Anna's in the bathroom."

"Okay," Natasi said. She had no idea why Boomer called her Nasi, but it was almost friendly, so she went with it.

"Is that Natasi?" Laura called from the kitchen. "Send her in here. She sounds like she could use something to eat."

Natasi wandered in. True to Boomer's phone call, the first woman of rock was wearing a bathrobe that was now stained with grease, a very long t-shirt that hit mid-thigh, and fuzzy slippers. Also her glasses, but that didn't count.

"Hey, boss," she said wanly.

"What did he say to you this time?" Laura asked, her attention focused on the pancakes. Laura knew all about GB, didn't approve, but as she said, someone with her background didn't need to be listened to.

"The usual lines," Natasi said, spearing four pancakes off the plate and actually grabbing the butter. Today was a day for butter, and bacon if d.Anna and Boomer hadn't eaten it all already. "Don't worry about that ridiculous little music thing, darling, the punters just want to see T&A and Laura being political!"

"GB really is the best label executive he could be," Laura said dryly, pointing Natasi to the syrup pitcher with a deft move of her elbow. "He doesn't have to worry about selling bad music, or the problems of selling great music to people who want okay-but-catchy music. Because he's not selling art in his head."

"He also knew you would say that," Natasi said, cutting into her stack of pancakes with grim determination on her face. "He said you liked fame and fortune, too."

"I do," Laura said with a gracious shrug. "Who doesn't? It means I can stay up until two in the morning arguing over a B flat or B sharp variation in the third chorus with intelligent musicians half my age. And drink the best possible wine and ambrosia while doing so."

"I still think we're using too many flats. It's too timid," Boomer said, right on cue.

"Restraint has its place, especially if you're still going on about Brother Love Blues," Natasi said, mouth full of pancake. "Gods, Boomer, it's a ballad. Do you know how much work I've had to do on the intro to deal with your crescendo?"

"Money makes this possible," Laura added, as d.Anna made her appearance, raising her eyebrow at Natasi's outfit, of course. "Let's take a moment to be grateful to GB, Tom, Tory, and other scumbags like them."

The other women all looked at each other, clearly unsure of what they were supposed to do. Fortunately, before any of them had to ask and look stupid, the front door banged open with a loud clatter and then slammed.

"Ladies, the light and love of your musical world has arrived," KT said. "Do you have blueberry syrup? I brought blueberry syrup."

Natasi rolled her eyes. "We need to write a song about how KT has the best timing in the universe," she said. Laura chuckled. "We could call it Blonde Luck."

"Oh, you only say that because you know I'm awesome," KT said affectionately. "Maybe when you get kicked out of the band for telling secrets to that wanker GB, you can name your side project that."

"KT, not necessary. Natasi, sit. sit. sit back down," Laura said, both hands flying out from her hips. "I am too old and hung over to deal with a fight today. Besides, I still have to deal with Ba-Noh at the release party and he's going to be pressing the issue about Dear Me, Love You."

"Whyyyyyy?" KT whined. "We tried. It sounded bad. Even GB, the big corporate whore, said it sounded bad."

"Because _everyone_ in the press wants the cover," Laura said. "I'm doing the best I can to dodge, but at some point, we will have to do that cover."

"It's not really a bad song," Natasi said, thinking about it lazily. "It's just not really your speed, Laura."

"Yes, I _know_ , but I am so gods-damned tired of that song..." and Laura sighed. "Come on. I didn't ask you here to complain about Dear Me, Love You."

What she had asked them there over, of course, was about the products of her session with Boomer, which had produced yet another variation on Brother Love Blues, and a great deal of warning about the hell that were release parties.

"A bunch of people who didn't make the album will be there, helping themselves to glory," Laura said, taking a long swig of orange juice. "And everyone should be dressed up. Label's request."

She said it in that fake-sunny way that made everyone look at Natasi.

"What? Why are you looking at me?" she asked. "Did you realize you were wrong about rhythm being more than your drum kit?"

"You date the doofus," KT said, leaning back in her chair. "Can't you smother him in his sleep?"

"Yes, because he is the only part of our corporate management that sucks," Natasi snarled back. "KT, just because you're single and bitter doesn't mean you have to take it out on GB every single time."

"Oh, frak you, I'd rather date my right hand than the slick little weasel," KT shot back.

"Gods, do you two need us to leave the room?" d.Anna quipped.

"We can take it outside all by ourselves, d.Anna," KT said. "Can't we, Nasi?"

"KT," Laura said quietly.

Before KT could apologize, Natasi's phone went off and she grabbed it, fleeing the room with thoughts of murder by drumstick in her head. Maybe then they could add some innovation to Krypter's rhythm section.

"Hello?" she asked.

"I hate how we left things this morning," GB's voice teased in her ear. "Sometimes it's difficult to disentangled our rather entangled private and public lives, Natasi love."

"I know," Natasi said. Her heart was pounding; he'd never bothered to apologize before. "I'm at a band function, GB. I need to be a little quick, sorry."

"Oh, that's quite all right. Mustn't disrupt the bonding process," he said. "But I would like to make it up to you. Could I pick you up at noon and take you to lunch?"

Natasi glanced back at the kitchen. KT had her hands over her face and was getting a stern but quiet lecture from Laura. d.Anna was rolling her eyes Natasi-ward, and Boomer looked like she was thinking about some secret guitar genius thing.

"Yes, yes you can," she said gladly.

* * *

"The release party's an event, Natasi, and you're the only one that seems to listen," GB said, petting her hair while the intro to 'Tell Me, Tell Me, Tell Me' blared over his eight thousand cubit Virgonian car speakers. Natasi had done some rhythm for the song, but it had definitely been one she hadn't had much involvement in. She liked it anyway, despite the slightly derivative nature of the tune. "Why isn't this the opening single? The hook is fantastic."

"We wanted something that showed all of our skills," Natasi said, feeling dry and wan. "Remember?"

"And of course that was the political song," GB said with the infinite sarcasm of dry charm.

"Apocalipstick is a good song," Natasi said, rousing a little. "It kicks out at the end and the initial reactions have been just as strong, if not stronger, than the reactions to Tell Me, Tell Me, Tell Me."

"It's political and it doesn't recall the heyday of Krypter, but we gave Laura Roslin the power to destroy herself if she wanted, so her call," GB replied. "You, on the other hand, I would greatly prefer not destroyed. As well as turned out like the celebrity you are."

"Oh?" Natasi asked. "So you're going to take me shopping?"

GB produced a translucent black credit card with an impish smile. "Never leave the office without it, darling," he said. "And won't that rather show your vexing little rival, KT? She'll be sapphic and you will be chic."

Natasi hid a smile. "KT's not that bad," she said. "Just a big loudmouth. And I thought you were taking me out to lunch."

Smoother than the leather interior of his car, GB shifted gears and lanes before favoring Natasi with a devilish wink. "Where I'm taking you, Natasi, we could send out for people to shave your legs. We'll simply eat while we find the perfect outfit for your debut as a bona fide star."

"Can it be red? I like red," Natasi said. "Red and slinky."

"Oh, be still my heart, a musician with decent fashion sense," GB said. "You will have red and slink, with breathtaking lines to match. Every eye in the room -- and especially mine -- will be on you."

"Really?" Natasi asked, slyly putting her hand on GB's leg. "Do you think the exclusive spot where we're headed will mind if we're, oh, fifteen minutes late?"

She ran her tongue over her lower lip, and GB's eyes widened appreciatively.

"Gods know that if they do, I'll take care of it," he said, pulling the car off the road. "I adore you, Natasi. Absolutely adore you. I hope you realize that."

It made her heart leap in her chest. "Me, too," she admitted. "I'm crazy about you, GB."

"I know," he said. "And it makes my day better."

Maybe they'd be half an hour late. Natasi didn't mind, and the look on GB's face suggested he wouldn't care much, either.

* * *

"Motherfrakker!" Natasi screamed, glad for all the soundproofing in the room.

Some release party that had turned out to be.

She'd known they weren't exclusive, her and GB. But to show up at _her_ frakking release party with twins. Obvious escort twins who were maybe twenty-one and wearing skintight purple gauze. After the whole Cinderella moment, it was like getting stabbed in the heart.

Natasi wanted to be alone, she wanted to cry, and maybe she wanted to destroy an instrument or two. If it weren't for the damn concerts, she might download out of this frakking mess. Let GB go, get back to business of making the world safer for skinjobs via excellent music and pr.

"Release parties rarely live up to the hype," a familiar, rough voice informed her. "Everyone's all about the appearances, the drugs are too expensive, and they send out for the ass."

"I can't believe Ba-Noh actually brought Bill," Natasi agreed, trying to smile as she recognized Laura, who was glaring at music stubbornly. "Your ex-husband is a jackass."

"Yeah. I could have done worse than his son, actually," Laura admitted, ruffling her hair idly. "Lee is a little bit uptight and idealistic, but he's got a good heart."

"That's so wrong," Natasi said with a half-hearted snicker.

"So is this ridiculous...nonsense," Laura said with clear frustration, throwing the papers to the floor. Being sheet music, they drifted, and she sighed ruefully. "Sometimes, don't you wish they were made of something you could really throw?"

Natasi looked at the much-abused sheet music on the floor of the rehearsal space.

_I don't want to tell you, but  
For both of us, it's always been too late._

Tell her all about it. Natasi knew exactly what it was like, wanting something that was always going to be bad.

Something turned over in Natasi's stomach and she swiveled toward Laura quickly.

"They won't let up about Dear Me, Love You, will they?" she asked Laura. Her brain was suddenly whirring faster than it had in a long time. Something electric was going through Natasi, and she didn't know why.

"It's not a bad song, but it's not a song I could ever sing," Laura said, having a lemon water. "I don't understand the woman in the song. And I know she's supposed to be me, but she's not. When I took my break from Rich, I was thinking frak him, Mom needed me, and frak him for saying otherwise. We got into a screaming match."

"I bet," Natasi said. "Give me a minute."

Natasi wandered over to the piano with the sheet music, thinking about GB's whining that they needed a Krypter version of this damn song, GB whining that he was not yet bathing in liquid gold, GB telling her that he didn't bloody care about the music but her keyboarding was quite respectable, GB GB GB.

Natasi needed to break up with GB, but she wasn't going to, because she was a woman in love. Even if she was a Cylon in love and at some point she was going to be busted for it.

And it wasn't a bad song, really. The whole thing had a powerful effect, but Laura singing the whole thing pretending that she was the woman in the song was absurd. Laura wouldn't know how to regret a mistake if she thought she'd made the best decision she could.

Natasi started to play, at first just repeating the opening three chords. It wasn't until she had done the introduction three times that she realized the answer, and started singing.

"Well, she throws out her arms and says, give me a choice and tell me my fate. I don't want to tell you, but for both of us, it's always been too late," Natasi started, hearing the quaver in her voice. It was too low, written for Laura's alto, but if she went this way...KT could come in on drums there, and...

"Dear me, you ain't the man you wanted to be," Laura came in, not quite in harmony, but Natasi could almost hear the effect. They could pull it off. "You lost that woman and she lost too..."

Natasi felt her whole body relax. She could do this, even as she let the piano trail off after the first chorus. And when she met Laura's eyes, she saw the excitement that was shivering just under Natasi's calm reflected and amplified.

"It's rough...we're going to have to work on it a lot more than Boomer and I have to work on Wired," Laura said. "But you've made something out of the albatross tied around our necks. And frak Ba-Noh if he can't deal. We can put it on the second album if this goes well. It'll probably end up being the first single."

Natasi shivered. "You never let anything throw you too far, do you?" she ventured. Laura smiled bitterly. "What? You make cake out of everything, woman."

"Not exactly cake," Laura said. "And trust me. I'm regularly thrown, but I'm not willing to lose everything over being surprised anymore. What about you? You had your own moment of making cake, too."

"I'm not breaking up with GB," Natasi said flatly.

"But you wish you could," Laura said succinctly. "And that you should."

"I wish he wasn't a selfish, childish son of a bitch more," Natasi said, running her fingers over the keys. "So what the hell are you, anyway?"

She'd meant it in reference to watching a half-dressed KT stumble out of Laura's dressing room, and to the incredible kismet with Boomer. Laura didn't take it that way.

In fact, Natasi felt a rumbling of fear because Laura Roslin was thrown.

"I'm a musician," Laura managed, stumbling over the words slightly.

"So...open, huh?" Natasi said. "Because there's what, three ex-husbands? And I know that Mr. Zarek almost wants to ask you out, but then after all the drunken late-nights with the girls..."

Laura laughed. "You'll never get me to answer that question sober," she said, composure rapidly returning.

But it was enough to make Natasi wonder. Enough to make Natasi think that at the next Cylon gathering she went to, if there was anyone who knew anything about Laura.

Besides the rocking part. Everyone knew that.


	2. Part II: d.Anna Biers

Sell Yr Soul 4 Rock'N'Roll (Part Two)  
by Jennifer-Oksana  
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairings: Six/Baltar, Starbuck/D'Anna/Kat  
Disclaimer: Moore's the man with the master plan.  
Summary: Sex, drugs, and making fun of the keyboardist. [Band AU, all parts finished listed here.](http://jennyo.livejournal.com/tag/band+au)

Sell Yr Soul 4 Rock'N'Roll  
**Part II: d.Anna Biers**

Krypter  
_Skinjob_ (9/10)

Looking at the cover of the album -- a pin-up quality shot of the very female line-up now using the classic band's name -- one might get the idea that Laura Roslin has finally become the pop diva she threatened to be in classic songs like "Lost With You" and "Don't."

Krypter, of course, was always more of a loose way to group the musicians backing up Roslin's voice and curiously tough lyrical stylings than a band. So her new, obscure juniors who've been displayed like eye candy have an unpleasant task: to look good and play well without calling too much attention to themselves.

For the most part they pull it off, though Roslin's lyrical taste is tempered by a youthful spunk that is jarring at first. By the cheeky, punk-flavored "Get Back," anchored by KT's exuberant drums, you've forgotten that Roslin is in her early fifties and coming off her own tragedies. The same woman who could hold the stage with Rich Adar, Leonard Moon, and Pete Roberts is in full voice, wise and dangerous.

"I know you want to hear/The tragedy, not the story," Roslin informs us bluntly on "Brother Love Blues" which falters in part because of Natasi Harvey's overambitious keyboards. She's right. But for all of that, the closest we get to an explanation for the last three years of Roslin's life is her cover of "Gods Bless the Child." The keyboard work in this, and the slight stumble of Roslin's voice over the blues classic is all the more poignant.

"Them that's got shall get," she half-breathes to Harvey's melody and bassist d.Anna Biers's solid rhythm. "Them that's not shall lose." While many are hoping passionately for a cover of the (vastly overrated) "Dear Me, Love You," they miss this unusual confessional at their own peril.

We may no longer live in the age of musical giants, but with Krypter's return to the stage, we can hear how those giants have lived on and been mourned.

* * *

"What the frak is wrong with wearing rhinestones?" d.Anna asked, looking at the sexy top with outright longing.

Natasi had split to go have sex with her useless record-label boyfriend, Boomer had finally crashed, and so KT, Laura, and d.Anna were discussing what they were supposed to wear to the release party at the Roxsie later. Unsurprisingly, given her stupid butch thing, KT thought the rhinestone-studded top d.Anna planned to wear was stupid.

"It's so desperate," KT said. "Plus, it looks too much like what I'm going to wear. I have sparkly shit on my jeans."

"That's different from having a rhinestone top," d.Anna said. "What's on your shirt?"

"It's this awesome print t-shirt I bought for eighty-five cubits," KT said with her goofy smile that was always for Laura. "It's studded, black-and-white, and classy. I remembered what you said."

What Laura had said was in response to KT's rather risque tank top at the band's first public appearance. And by rather risque, d.Anna remembered with a smirk the expression on GB's usually jaded little face over seeing "Righteous Cunt" spelled out over KT's tits.

"Studs aren't the same as rhinestones, so we should be okay," d.Anna said. "I like this shirt."

"It's fine, but don't wear jeans. We'll look like twins. Wear those black flares, OK?" KT said, folding her arms and leaning back. "They look good on your round ass anyway."

"Sometimes you're right even when you're being a bitch, KT," d.Anna said. "So, Laura, what the hell does happen at these things, anyway?"

"People get very drunk, people gossip, people make asses of themselves, and at some point they'll play the album and people will pretend to give good gods damn," Laura said with a dry shrug. "They'll take a lot of pictures, hence the dressing up."

"Will the booze at least be good?" d.Anna asked.

"For us it will be," Laura said. "There's always a better set of bottles in the back. The caterers usually like the band and not the press, so we'll drink well."

"Awesome," KT said. "Can I spike up my hair?"

"Only if you get it done by a stylist," Laura said. d.Anna smirked dryly -- neatly done by the rock mama -- and looked at her red and sparkly top. It laced up the side and she just _liked_ it. Especially with the spike-heeled suede boots she'd bought with GB's money.

GB's money spent even sweeter than her own, d.Anna had to admit. And her money spent just fine by her.

"A stylist? Do I have time to go to a stylist?" KT asked. "You're not making Boomer go to a stylist."

"Oh, yes, I am," Laura said with a smirk. "But she called her friend Karl this morning to bring her clothes over so the both of us could do our hair and make-up in the comfort of my very nice home."

KT bristled. "And what about me?" she asked. "Everyone's SOL for your new favorite Booomah, huh?"

"Would you like to stay here this afternoon and use the stylist, too?" Laura asked, grinning outrageously.

"Hell yes," KT said.

"What about you, Dee?" Laura asked, tilting her head at d.Anna with a raised shoulder. "You're invited, too."

"No, that's...that's okay," d.Anna said. "I have somewhere I have to go first. Is GB sending us separate limos, or just one?"

"He'll at least need one more for him and Natasi," KT said with a bawdy snort. "He's gotta frak his rock star in the limo after all, or face not being a complete cliche."

"Even if she _is_ just a keyboardist," d.Anna added with a nasty little smile.

* * *

They did it quietly, the hidden ones. Twelve models, maybe two or three of each on each world. Maybe just one. d.Anna wasn't sure. Was never sure. She knew Natasi was one of the Sixes, she was a Three, and the burnout that she'd swear was the band's drug dealer (if anyone ever bothered to ask) was an Eleven.

He was the only one d.Anna had really spent time with, besides the two other Threes she'd met, and Natasi.

He called himself Leoben.

Leoben was kind of a prick, but for a mystic he was an okay guy, and he did have the drugs when she needed them, so it could be worse.

But there were things they just knew, Cylons. d.Anna loved it. Touch a certain monitor, and she'd know it wasn't a monitor. It was a signpost, it was a little Cylon itself.

One of the things she knew was where they had their temple.

It wasn't that the one God needed temples, or that He frowned on His children using the pagan Colonial temples. But there was something centering about it. Knowing that she wasn't the only Cylon in the world. Or even that the only other Cylon was the GB-frakking, anorexic stick otherwise.

Really. d.Anna didn't hate Natasi, but she was a piss-poor model of a Cylon, God's chosen children. This was no way to prove that God loved everyone, by being a slime-frakking...

There it was.

d.Anna sat down next to the fountain, putting her fingers against the graffiti scratched into the side and closing her eyes.

There it was.

Unity. Love. Presence.

All of the things d.Anna craved. All of the things that she sometimes felt from the music.

It was never enough with the music, though.

"Thank you," d.Anna whispered. "Thank you, God."

God's love was peace. She knew that.

She also knew she had a problem finding peace even with God's love. And tonight she was going to have to fight some incredible frakking performance anxiety.

d.Anna took another deep breath. She could smell the slightly chlorinated water of the fountain, hear birds singing, feel the slight breeze on her arms.

Then she opened her eyes and pulled out her phone.

"Hello, Leoben," she murmured, punching in 2 on her phone.

* * *

"It's Colonial poison," Leoben said. "Their souls are so dead to God's message that they find derivative paths to his love."

d.Anna rolled her eyes. "So why do you sell it, jackass?" she asked, looking at herself in the mirror. Good outfit. It was a tremendously good outfit. She looked grown-up but still great in it.

"I have to eat," Leoben answered. "And these people have great gaping holes in them."

"Well, here's enough money to feed you for a month," d.Anna said sourly, handing over her roll. "Spend it well, brother."

Leoben looked after her disapprovingly, but handed over the small kit bag. d.Anna took it.

"If you gave your heart more fully to God, you wouldn't need that," Leoben said. "Neither you nor our other sister who travels in darkness."

"Get out," d.Anna said irritably. Leoben left, and d.Anna waited until the door had closed to open her bag.

Paradise. A collection of pills, powders, and her favorite -- the injectables.

She had just enough time, too. Enough time to put on the makeup, shoot up, and be waiting for the rest of the band when they arrived.

Her rhinestones sparkled through the little syringe, diffusing the light around the room. d.Anna knew her apartment was still kind of bare for Krypter's new bassist, but she didn't mind bare. It was clean and d.Anna needed some clean in her life.

Things got messy, and she didn't want to be attached to anything.

Just in case she lost.

Her heart was already beating faster, being this close to her public appearance. She'd been clean at the press conference yesterday, and it had been hard to stand.

Next week was going to be hell. The War Memorial Stadium. Actually playing for a crowd.

d.Anna stared at herself in the mirror. She and Natasi were old to be in a band. Everyone would think early thirties, and wonder where they'd come from. Sometimes d.Anna was so sure they'd be outed as Cylons that she couldn't breathe.

A little more mascara would be good. And the gloss. Good. Too much makeup would make her outfit too look bold.

Natasi had shown her how to do her makeup; one of the benefits of Natasi's shitty job at the department store after those idiots had bombed in the Capitol in the name of Cylon rights and all the remaining Cylons went way underground. d.Anna would look just fine without dealing with a stylist.

Now, then, for the topper.

* * *

Natasi was wearing a slinky red number that looked really good on her, d.Anna thought. But it totally blended with d.Anna's outfit and didn't quite match the rock chick look everyone else was sporting. It was an off note in a night full of off notes, and it caught attention.

Hell, Natasi wasn't even GB's arm candy to make up for it, and Laura hadn't been wrong at all about how much these events kind of sucked.

Well, not entirely sucked. d.Anna had been making eyes at this woman, this little sassy bit of a girl with wavy short hair and dirty jeans.

"Oh. My. Gods," KT said, breezing in behind d.Anna and drumming on her back with her fingers in a light staccato rhythm. "Look who just showed the hell up."

Turning, d.Anna's jaw dropped. "Who the hell brought Bill?" she whispered, staring at the stocky man who was walking into the room. "And does the label protect us in case of Laura killing that person with her eyes?"

"Hey, I wonder if they'll let Lee in," KT said suddenly, perking up. "Holy shit, is that Ba-Noh?"

As if on cue, Natasi and Boomer were suddenly hustling over to KT and d.Anna's quiet snarkfest on the arrival of Bill Adama.

"Ba-Noh brought him," Boomer said. "Oh my gods, and I thought it couldn't get tackier than the obvious call girls who are currently attached to GB's ass."

"Frak him," Natasi said, sucking on one of her vodka-backed girly drinks. "I bet they're underage. GB doesn't have the best screeners."

"Who cares about what STD GB's going to get from underaged hookers, people?" KT asked, waving a hand. "Ba-Noh brought Bill to Laura's release party. In gods know how many decades, when we're being interviewed about Laura Roslin's memory, they are going to ask about this party."

"True," d.Anna said, sighing happily, leaning back into KT's fingers. "How the hell does he expect Laura to cover his lame song by dragging her slightly jealous ex-husband..."

"Second ex-husband of three," Boomer added.

"Into her big comeback party?" d.Anna finished. "Hey, does anyone have the good alcohol for me?"

"No, because you're out of it," KT said. "What the fuck are you on?"

"Something to mellow my stage fright," d.Anna said shortly. "Oh, look, it's Lee Adama. The legend grows."

"There are going to be drinks thrown in faces," Natasi said. "If Laura does that to Bill, do you think I can do it to one of the underaged, STD-carrying hookers with GB?"

"DTMFA," KT said succinctly. "Dump the motherfrakker already. If you do that, I bet we can get d.Anna into rehab before she ends up the bassist cliche."

The band was watching the slow motion of Laura Roslin toward Bill Adama and Ba-Noh, with the erratic vector of Lee catching KT's eye now and again. d.Anna was really starting to find it a little hard to follow.

"He's awfully...interesting-looking for a big-name actor," d.Anna said as Laura snatched a crispy wiener-in-flaky-crust hor d'oeuvre off a tray and washing it down with the dregs of her white wine.

"Have you seen many of the former boyfriends? Laura prefers unattractive men," Boomer said. "I asked her about it when we were jamming? She says it's because ugly boys can frak. They know they can't just pick up any girl, but that's why they keep them."

KT choked on her drink, and Natasi laughed bitterly. "That's some choice wisdom, Boomer," she said as d.Anna watched and swayed.

"She said it, not me," Boomer said. "It makes sense, though. You know how models always date ugly guys, right? It's totally because they're getting it done. I think it makes sense."

"I bet she slaps one of them," KT said.

"No way, Laura has some sense," Natasi said. "That would be hysterical and unclassy."

KT snorted. "You expect classy from someone who advised us to date ugly boys?" she asked with one of her loopy little shrugs. "Besides, you forget I know the Adamas. Bill isn't all bad, but if he gets too uptight, he says things and..."

"I'm going over there," Boomer said. "This is awful. We should be supporting a fellow band member."

d.Anna and KT laughed together. "Yeah, you go do that," d.Anna said. "I'm gonna sit here and feel KT's fingers drumming on my back, okay?"

Boomer rolled her eyes and stomped away. "Mama's little titty baby," KT murmured to d.Anna. "What about you, Natasi? Are you going to add to the upcoming drama by slapping a hooker?"

"No, I'm not," Natasi said. "You think they're messing around?"

d.Anna and KT exchanged a glance. Straight girls. Oh, straight girls. "Yeah, cuz the straight girls clearly are secret lovers," d.Anna said. KT's hand squeezed d.Anna's shoulder as KT snickered.

"You were the ones who told me no woman is completely straight," Natasi said patiently. "Ohhh, there we go. Ba-Noh is _so dumb_."

"Though not as dumb as your boyfriend, who looks like he wants to facilitate the interaction," KT added. "Wow, you wonder if they're Cylons? Maybe GB's down with that."

Natasi glared daggers at KT while d.Anna tried not to snicker. Wow, it was KT's night to be on, even when she was being a smartass. She looked up at the blonde human and grinned.

"Be nice to the keyboardist," she said. "Remember, she has to deal with being the _keyboardist._ "

"Frak you both," Natasi snarled, walking away without another word.

KT and d.Anna waited until their bandmate was out of earshot to bust up laughing. KT was actually bent double, and when her hand brushed against d.Anna's back, d.Anna felt something other than the lassitude of the heroin.

"Hey, you know where the good booze is," d.Anna said, catching KT's hand. "Why don't we go get some, hey?"

"I like this idea," KT said, helping d.Anna up. "Let's get wasted and enjoy our rock star status."

"Good plan," d.Anna agreed as the two slipped out.

* * *

Sunlight poured through the windows and d.Anna rolled over.

Oh, God frakking damn it. This was not her mattress. These were not her sheets.

And she was naked and sleeping next to someone.

Someone who groaned and rolled away.

Ohhhhh, frak.

"Frakking blinds," KT's unmistakable voice whined. "Get 'em, will you?"

"Yeah," d.Anna muttered, standing up, stepping over another woman -- _another woman_ , her brain tried to register -- and twisted the blinds twice. "Do you know the girl on your floor?"

"That's Louanne," KT said. "We did the same indie rock circuit back in the day. She's pretty good, but serious case of me-envy."

Louanne's hand shot up and gestured obscenely, and d.Anna realized with a jolt it was the cute girl from the release party. Wow, of all the nights to black out on, d.Anna regretted this one keenly.

"So did we have lesbian rock star orgy?" d.Anna asked, stepping over Louanne again and sitting down on the mattress. Her head was starting to ache, though she suspected she was still too drunk to be hungover.

"No, because Louanne is not a rock star," KT said with a grin. "Otherwise, yes, yes we did."

"Frak you, you frakking cunt," Louanne said. "I am a better musician than you, Kara."

"Yeah, fine. Who's in Krypter and who's still doing indie night at the Bucket, huh?" KT taunted back.

"Oh, that's it," Louanne said, getting up and knocking KT back before KT grabbed Louanne by the hair and kissed her hard.

Dry-mouthed, d.Anna watched Louanne seize one of KT -- or Kara, maybe it was Louanne and Kara and Deanna at this point -- one of KT's arms before straddling her, pressing Kara back against her wall.

Kara's tattoos looked good, her skin next to Louanne's as they fought it out through kisses, grunts, nails dug into each other. d.Anna wanted in bad. Bad enough to forget the burgeoning hangover.

She put her hands on Louanne's back, dragging her fingernail down the woman's spine and, hearing an encouraging moan, kept going.

"That's it," d.Anna murmured, sucking on Louanne's neck. "Did I tell you I wanted you last night? You caught my eye."

"Don't give her a big head," KT muttered, looking up from Louanne's breasts. "She already thinks she's all that because she's the filling."

"Shut up, Kara," Louanne said. "d.Anna's hotter than you anyway. And a better lay."

Clearly, Kara got off on the taunting, because she just jammed her tongue down Louanne's throat in response. d.Anna was enjoying it -- she liked the show, and Louanne's back kept brushing against her breasts and mmmm. Good sensation.

"So are you done hate-humping on Kara yet?" d.Anna whispered into Louanne's ear, blowing on the baby-fine hair on the back of her neck for good measure. "I want you...and I want to show her how to do it right."

Louanne broke her kiss with KT and twisted so she could meet d.Anna's eyes. "Not unless I get to do you first," she said. "I'm gonna make you see stars, woman."

Laughing, she twisted further from Kara, who shook her head, lowering her head between d.Anna's breasts and nuzzling. It stole a whimper from d.Anna's throat, especially when Louanne looked up and licked her lips.

"You sure about that?" d.Anna asked, shivering as Louanne's fingers grazed against her outer lips.

"Yeah, I am," Louanne said as d.Anna tried to get more touch from her warm, seeking fingers. "You're gonna be screaming for that god of yours all over again. Isn't that right?"

She pushed three fingers into d.Anna at once and it ached, but God, God, God...she was already ready.

"Yes," d.Anna whimpered. "Don't stop."

The world was luminous like this. Perfect, and the stray beam of light that crossed Louanne's face as she smiled and twisted her fingers was like...was almost better than any prayer, really.

"Thank you," d.Anna murmured, throwing her head back and giving in to her body's desire, feeling connected to the world in a way she hadn't in weeks.

God worked in mysterious ways.


	3. Part III: Lee Adama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Lee Adama is a nerd with a website having the best day ever, and KT maybe is dating her rival drummer friend, and maybe Laura did a lot of drugs, and maybe there are Cylons in Krypter.

**Part III: Lee Adama**

From dFAMED, the Music Gossip Site:

**Hey, Ba-Noh? Bringing Old Character Actor Exes to Chick's Party Is Not The Way to Get Said Chick to Cover Your Song Or Do You!**

Ba-Noh, as we all know, does not back down from controversial causes. Starving children victimized by Cylon attacks? He's there. Denouncing the oppression of Sagittaron? Hanging out with former terrorist turned record label exec Tom Zarek? Wearing those shades? All things Ba-Noh does proudly and openly, and that's why we love him.

But not even we adoring Ba-Noh fans at dFAMED can understand his actions at last night's release party for Krypter (Read: Laura Roslin and a pack of decent anonymous female musicians who will later turn Laura Roslin into their gravy train through talk shows, the reality TV circuit, and of course, tell-alls) at Delphi Dance Hall last night. According to dFAMED correspondent 'noTORYus' who sent us these cameraphone shots of the Showdown of Aging Stars:

> Ba-Noh brought Bill Adama to the release party and promptly ditched him to go discuss collaborating with Krypter on his next album. Bill, who's never gotten over losing his rock goddess ex, made a beeline for Laura. An argument broke out, and got louder despite attempts of Ba-Noh, pathetic ex-teen-wannabe Lee Adama, and fellow Krypter band member Sharon Valerii to defuse the confrontation.
> 
> Laura loudly accused Bill of 'stalking' her, and when label executives tried to get involved, snarled, 'go back to the hooker twins, GB!' before shaking off Valerii and getting into a noisier argument with Bill, asking who had let him in and so forth. When Bill said (or pointed to) Ba-Noh, the angry and apparently intoxicated rock legend said to Ba-Noh, and I quote, 'Oh, gods, stop trying to recreate your childhood masturbation fantasies!' before storming away.

While a thousand managers, publicists, and label execs weep into their lattes and consider what it might mean for Laura Roslin, the ultimate MILF rock star fantasy, to tell Ba-Noh that she's not going to be _his_ MILF rock star fantasy, we have come to the conclusion that Laura Roslin is hardcore and that a thousand Ba-Noh hating teenage boys will discover Krypter simply because, to quote the Peres Hylton thread to break the story, **she kicked Ba-Noh's pussy ass in public.**

But we're still waiting for that diva-tastic collaboration between Ba-Noh and Laura, kittens, and if you two feuding stars don't mend your ways and do Dear Me, Love You, we'll hold our breath and turn blue...

* * *

Lee Adama, son of famous people, and z-list celebrity geek webmaster of leeadama.net, usually averaged about forty actual emails a day for his site. Most of them made him feel okay to good about his choices in life, especially not pursuing tacky d-list celebrity in the form of "mystepmomishot.com" (which he owned, but would never use).

The day after Laura Roslin told Lee's dad to stop stalking her, Lee woke up to five thousand, five hundred, and thirty-eight emails, not counting porn, spam, or porn spam.

Approximately five thousand, five hundred, and thirty-five of them wanted to know if he'd ever seen Laura Roslin naked, if he'd seen her having sex with his dad, having sex with Rich, having sex with Davide Buhwee, or having sex with Rich, his dad, and Buhwee at the same time...and if he'd mind sharing those pictures with his loyal readers in his next column.

One of them was from Billy Keikeya with Laura's label, requesting he not share any naked pictures with anyone but the label if he were in possession of such things, or he'd be hit with a C&D lawsuit the size of...a large lawsuit.

One of them was from his father, informing him that Ba-Noh was an opportunistic frakker who didn't give a damn about the community, and asking if Lee still had Laura's phone number so he could call and apologize.

The last one was from Kara. Excuse him -- KT. Because no legendary rock drummer could be called Kara. That was what Kara had told him when Kara had told him that she had gotten the gig as Krypter's new drummer.

_I AM A GOLDEN GLORIOUS GOD OF RAWK!!_ was all it said. Well, that and her current contact information, which Lee figured he could sell to the paparazzi for approximately enough money to buy him an apartment on the beachfront side of Caprica City and possibly a pony.

Instead of making money, Lee picked up the phone and called KT, realizing that he was using up his plan minutes to call a glorious god of rock who had just seen her first advance check.

"Hey, loserbitch," KT greeted him graciously. "I was wondering when you'd call. Especially after last night and the glorious stupidity."

"Do you have any naked pictures of your lead singer? Everyone's asking me for them and I need the hookup," Lee said dryly. "You ask one rock legend to the prom..."

"Dude," Kara said, laughing. "Lest we forget, the rock legend was your _stepmom_ at the time, and you asked her on _live television._ "

Of course, Lee was in terrible danger of forgetting that Laura Roslin had been his stepmom during the horniest part of his adolescence. Every day, in fact, if the number of times he'd been informed that Laura Roslin had been his stepmother during his awkward teen years and her awkward cokehead years was any indicator.

"Yeah, I know. I was there when she turned my ass down flat," Lee said sourly. "Of course, once she sobered up, Laura admitted she almost said yes. But only to spite my dad. Who kicked my ass for asking my stepmom to the prom on live television."

KT snickered. "Hey, I have sympathy. Remember this is about the time I had my first intuitions of girlfrakking due to your hot, hot stepmom. Also it was about the time she was at her hottest and was wearing that leather jacket with your dad's jeans and cowboy boots..."

"I _remember_ , KT," Lee said pissily. "Zak and I were at that photoshoot. It was the noisiest, least fun experience you could imagine. And I still bought the damn poster."

"Lucky bitch," KT said. "Anyway. You need naked pictures? I could possibly get them to you. Because you're my boy. Well, the last boy I frakked before realizing I have no real boy love."

"Thanks, Kara," Lee said. "I love you, too."

"Any time," KT said. "By the way? Don't call me Kara."

"Whatever, _Kara_ ," Lee said. "Was there a purpose to your email, or did you just want to gloat about the bitchfight between the old man and Laura? Or how I ended up with a punch bowl on my head?"

"No, I'm just frakking buzzing, and Laura has a headache from the press and said rehearsal is later, which means she's probably off doin' Boomer," said KT with a snort. "I swear, they're straight and shit, but really girlfrakky for straight girls. Anyway, you wanna go frak around? I'll buy us lunch and we can go look at hot girls who will rub up on us both."

Lee had clearly lost his mind, because it sounded like a halfway decent idea.

"Sure, what the hell?" he said.

* * *

"What's with you and Louanne?" Lee asked, stealing fries from Kara's plate and dipping them into his fry sauce with relish. Mmm. Expensive food. "Every time you get liquored up and see her, you two are on each other faster than, I dunno, your label on drama."

Kara's face flushed and she pulled her plate away from Lee, despite clearly having no intention of finishing her delicious fries.

"There is nothing with us," she said. "Louanne gets on my last frakking nerve. She still thinks she's a better drummer than me. Can you believe that ego?"

"How many girls have you frakked in the last month?" Lee asked, eyeing the fries with a grumbling tummy and bemusement at KT's level of denial.

"Five or six. Not that it's your business, asshole," said Kara, affecting her KT scowl.

"How many times have you frakked Louanne this month, including last night, which counts even if it was a threesome," Lee said, giving Kara a droll look. She had bragged about her lesbian rock star orgy to him the minute he'd gotten into the car, telling him the kind of details that only KT would tell to anyone she wasn't currently frakking.

"Eight times and shut up," KT said, folding her arms. "I get your point, but I'm not dating her. Besides, what about you? Weren't you talking to that chick from the label, Stacey whatever? You know that all Staceys are slutty, don't you? Also, she's dating Billy from the label. Label people are so incestuous."

"Only if you think their last name is 'From-the-Label,' KT," Lee said with a diffident shrug. Now was not the time to tell KT he'd gotten Stacey's number and a date for Friday night. "Oh, hey, it's a paparazzi. Look, over there."

KT looked over her shoulder, stuck up her middle finger and stuck her tongue out at the guy, who proceeded to take about ten photos of her before she turned back to Lee.

"You know, he could have been here for me," Lee said, pulling KT's plate back toward him and chowing down on the fries. She slapped at his hands, but Lee ignored her, because KT liked to slap.

"And you could be the one paying the bill, but that's in the alternate universe where you're the celebrity and not me," KT said with one of her wry, wacky grins. "Stacey From-the-Label is like, nineteen. That's just dirty, Lee."

Lee shrugged. He'd just met Stacey From-the-Label last night, who had helped him away from the punch bowl he'd gone tumbling into when his father and Ba-Noh and Laura had started scuffling.

But Stacey was cute, and she'd actually noticed that Lee had tripped, fallen, and ended up with a punch bowl on his head, unlike, say, the entire rest of the release party.

"Hey," she'd said, smiling a real smile, not the usual publicist-or-assistant smile of forced niceness. "You're Lee Adama."

"Unfortunately," Lee had replied.

"I'm Stacey," she then said, helping him up. "So, that just happened."

"Yes, it did," Lee had agreed, looking at his punch-stained jeans and shirt. "Well, frak. I don't look like a new media journalist now at all, do I?"

Stacey From-the-Label chuckled. "Afraid not," she said with a shrug. "Come on, I'll help you get cleaned up."

Cleaning up had involved a good twenty minutes of discovering Stacey had three fillings, smelled kind of like Zanzibar perfume, and liked it a lot when Lee flicked her earlobe with his tongue. He was also pretty sure that GB had seen them going at it, but who cared? GB had the underage hooker twins running around with him, and d.Anna the bassist was higher on smack than Laura had been during her tenure on drugs and booze.

"Lee. Lee Adama, you're not listening to your best friend," KT sing-songed, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Were you thinking about your little friend from the label? Or your hot stepmom?"

Lee snorted. "Dude, you can say that to me when you can go a full week without either hitting on my hot ex-stepmom, or getting yourself off to fantasies about her," he said, sticking his tongue out at her.

KT clearly wanted to retort, but that was when Lee's phone went off. Caller ID informed him that, yep, it was his dad. He'd been expecting this call; in fact, it surprised him the old man had waited this long to call.

"Who is it?" KT mouthed.

"Dad," Lee replied. "Hi, Dad. What's going on?"

"What's going on?" Bill Adama asked. "Lee."

"Sorry, sir," said Lee, rolling his eyes at KT. "I can't believe you went to the release party with Ba-Noh, Dad. You had to know that was a bad idea."

Lee's father was one of those people Lee would never like if he wasn't Lee's father. Bill Adama was overbearing and surprisingly blind to his own mistakes, even though his heart was in the right place, as every woman in his life liked to say, including Laura. Well, back in the day, when Laura would be sitting on the living room floor with a bottle, a blank sheet of paper, and her guitar, crying her eyes out from the comedown. Sober, ex-wife Laura? Lee thought maybe not.

"The situation got out of hand," Bill said, which in Lee's dad was that he agreed and wished he hadn't done what he had done. "Where are you?"

"Having lunch downtown. Oh, KT says hi," Lee said, smirking at Kara, who gave Lee this look that informed him he was dead and on borrowed time.

"You've got Kara with you?" asked Bill. "Put her on, would you?"

"No problem," Lee said, handing the phone to Kara, despite her vehement gestures of not wanting to talk to Bill. Not that Kara didn't love the old man, possibly more than Lee, but when Lee's dad got on the topic of his ex-wife, it was embarrassing.

"Heyyyy, you!" KT said with false heartiness, shooting Lee another nasty look. "Are you going to try to beg for Laura's number? She's got caller ID. She'll block you."

Ahh, sometimes it was good to be the nobody in a room full of somebodies, thought Lee, signaling the waitress for another beer. Especially the nobody who wasn't paying the bill OR talking to his father at the moment.

* * *

"I'm going to get you for that, Lee Adama, if it's the last thing I do," KT said as they got closer to KT's relatively modest apartment that Lee was sure that KT would be ditching the minute Krypter first played live with the new line-up. To Lee's complete non-surprise, Louanne was standing out front, arms folded. "Frak."

"What did you do to your non-girlfriend?" Lee asked, noticing that Louanne looked ready to tear KT a new asshole.

"I don't know! For real this time!" KT said, pulling up next to the other woman with a squeal of her brakes. "What now?"

"What now?" asked Louanne, nearly in tears. "You complete bitch. Do you know how hard I worked to get that session with GB? Four months, Kara. Four frakking months, and he looks at me and says, 'aren't you the little dyke KT and d.Anna picked up at the party last night? Sorry, darling, I don't need any more on the label. I've got enough progressive angry-girl rockers.'"

KT's mouth dropped open in genuine shock. "Oh, baby," she said, shocking the hell out of Lee. Baby? Lee had never earned a baby out of KT. "He said that? That arrogant twin-frakking frak said that to you?"

"Yeah, he said that to me!" Louanne said, voice shaking. "Are you telling me you didn't know he would?"

"I'm telling you I'll go kick his ass for you. Hell, if you want, I'll have Laura go kick his greasy ass for you," KT said, putting the car in park despite being a bit far from the curb. "Lee, get out. Louanne, get in."

Lee blinked. "Um, Kara, I don't make a million cubits a year like rock stars do," he said. "Can you drop me off? I'm sure that you can wait a whole half an hour to chew GB out."

"Fine, but you're in the back," KT said without a second glance. "Come on, Louanne. Do you want some record label balls for a present, babe? Cuz nobody fraks with my incompetent little drummer friend but me."

Louanne and Lee both half-laughed at that, because gods-damn, KT. Only KT could declare something like love by calling the object of her affections incompetent. Louanne even looked at Lee and shook her head. Lee nodded in silent agreement.

"GB is such a frakking motherfrakker," KT said grouchily as Lee climbed into the back of KT's sedan and Louanne got in front. His knees now pressed to his chest, Lee tried not to sigh. The glamorous life of a friend of a rock star was even less glamorous than being the stepson of a rock star. "Did you know he's frakking Natasi from the band? I swear, that's why she freaked out when he showed up with the hired punani."

"Oh, they already made up," said Louanne with a shrug. "She was leaving his office when I was coming in, and she did the little mouth wipe thing? Also, he did the panty-shoving in the pocket thing."

"Ew, straight people," KT said with a wicked laugh. "Speaking of, Lee has a thing for Stacey from the label. Even though I told him all Staceys are sluts."

"Can't blame him. She's pretty cute," Louanne said with a shrug. "Besides, look who's talking. Did KT tell you how we were all over d.Anna last night? That was crazy intense."

"In detail, and with great pleasure, because you know Kara," Lee said with a grin. "It's no fun to have sex without sharing the details to everyone ever. She even attempted to replicate the noises made."

Louanne choked, and slapped KT hard on the upper arm. "Why are you a whore?" she asked, squeaking and giggling in half-real outrage. "I mean. KT, you're the gods-damned devil. You made all the little sex noises? What the hell?"

"Oh, and she promised me girls who'd rub up on us both, and failed," Lee added.

"Shut up, you made me talk to your dad on your cell," KT said, snorting hard. "For like, twenty minutes, you frakking passive-aggressive asshole. Just because your dad thinks you're still trying to make the moves on his woman doesn't mean you can't field his calls."

Louanne was laughing so hard that she was choking and spitting, tears rolling down her face. Lee was glad that someone was having fun on this little side trip, even if Louanne did look like she was going to have a seizure.

"I have an idea," Louanne said, catching her breath. "And if we do it fast enough, maybe we'll be able to catch _Boo-mah_ \--" and Lee noticed Louanne said it exactly the way KT did -- "Giving Big Mama Laura the literal kiss-up."

KT perked up. "Oh, I like this plan already," she said.

Lee snorted. "Why do you think Laura is screwing around with a woman?" he asked. "Remember, I was kind of around when Laura and my dad were breaking up and frakking anything in sight in the mansion. Never saw any women."

"Oh. My. Frakking. Gods," KT said. "Who, and what did you see?"

Shit. Lee had never meant to mention that he had, um, seen his hot (if out of her mind on drugs) stepmom perhaps doing things of an adulterous and deeply sexy nature while in the pool. And in the hot tub. And on the deck chairs between them. And probably in the pool house, too.

Maybe he could leave out that he'd seen her at it in the pool. Because if he told KT, his dad would know, and if there was one thing this week didn't need, it was Bill Adama knowing his ex-wife had screwed Rich Adar for the last time in their hot tub.

Louanne giggled again. "I love being a rock star's semi-official woman, man," she said. "Speaking of which... did you remember you have that dinner thing tonight, K? And the radio appearance?"

Wow. They were actually really kind of, sort of dating, Lee thought as Kara cursed loudly and made a huge u-turn, driving them further away from his apartment.

"Um, Kara?" he said. "How am I getting home again?"

* * *

Laura was looking damn fine these days. Lee had managed to notice that last night during the release party, but up close and personal, she looked even better. Sobriety suited her, as did the glasses she was wearing to peer at him, standing there on his doorstep at loose ends.

"Lee?" Laura asked incredulously.

"KT left me here," he said, hands in his pockets, feeling like even more of a loser than previously thought. "GB called her girlfriend a dyke, and she has a radio appearance and a dinner for gays and lesbians in the arts. So she kind of ditched me here because it was closer than my apartment."

"Well, as long as it wasn't Ba-Noh," said Laura wryly, looking him over with a smile. "Come in."

"Thanks," Lee said, walking in and looking at the mess with a nostalgic sense of deja vu. Paper on the floor, a guitar, a smudge of graphite on Laura's nose, four broken pencils, and loud music playing. Just like when he was sixteen. "I didn't know you liked this song."

_This song_ being, weirdly, his favorite song ever.

Laura met his eyes and raised an eyebrow. Then, with a sly grin, she picked up the remote to her stereo, and restarted the song. With her gaze directly on Lee, she started to sing along, changing the words just enough.

"He came from Thrace, he had a thirst for knowledge," she teased in her throaty voice. Lee groaned, toe tapping along to the beat as she kept going. "That's when I caught his eye...he told me that his dad was loaded, I said in that case I'll have ambrosia and cola. He said fine...and then in thirty seconds' time..."

Her voice faded off as she gave Lee a meaningful look.

"I want to sleep with common people like you," Lee said tunelessly, playing along.

"I said, well, I'll see what I can do," Laura sang back, turning the volume down and seating herself back on the ground. "How are you, Lee? I read your site sometimes. I get Billy or Tory from the label to print it out. You sound pretty good. A little hard on yourself, though."

Lee shrugged, though something in him glowed to hear that Laura read his site. And cared how he was.

"Could be worse," he said, sitting on the arm of her couch like he used to. "This week was a bit uneven. I made out with a girl from your label who works for the R&B division after Ba-Noh knocked me into the punch. My dad went off on KT for twenty minutes for not giving him your number, and I make my living being a nerd whose claim to fame was asking you out."

"You're a good writer, though," Laura replied. "And you're making it without relying on Bill or anyone to do it, so good for you."

"What are you working on, anyway?" asked Lee, diverting her from his life. "You with the serious face and the listening to new music and no booze usually says songwriting, unless you've changed a lot since we all shared one crazy household."

"Just changing up one or two phrases for live versions of the songs," Laura admitted with a smile, and Lee noticed the pencil resting over her ear. "Here, you look at the lyrics. It's for 'Another Dumb Broad' -- I'm sure you've got the album, right?"

"I got it a week ago, for one of my reviewing gigs," Lee said, sitting down next to her, near the coffee table. "It's better than anything you did while you were with Dad, Laura. By a frakking long shot."

"Oh, I know," Laura agreed serenely, handing him the paper. "But it could be better. Plus, there's creative energy in the air. I finally have an angle for that idiotic cover I have to do -- but I want the live show to be better than the album. You know how I feel about performances."

Lee, nodding, took the paper from Laura and read along.

_I took the bait_  
And played your stupid game  
Another dumb broad  
Stuck with your frakking name...

"This one's a crowd-pleaser," Lee said halfway through a song that could be construed as one big frak off to his father. "KT's totally got the drums on this one banging, from what I remember. You could have the women in the crowd screaming it along with you, I think."

"It's a gods-damned pop song pretending to be rock," Laura replied with a wry shrug. "Help me de-dolly a little bit."

Lee looked at the lyrics sheet, shrugged, and tapped a stanza toward the end. "Well, okay, how about, 'Next time you see me coming, you better run' how about, 'Next time you see me coming, you're gonna run...' so you can repeat gonna run run run instead better run run run."

"Better," said Laura, closing her eyes and sounding out the phrasing in her head. "Hey, you know I'm sorry, right? For what I did to your life."

"What did you do to my life?" Lee asked, suddenly very interested in the lyrics to 'Another Dumb Broad.' "I'm the dumbass who asked you out on TV."

"Yeah, and you were fifteen and I was running around after school wasted on ambrosia and whatever the frak pills I was on at the time in t-shirts and no pants," Laura pointed out. "Your father and I put you and Zak in a terrible situation and I'm genuinely sorry for that."

Lee nodded, still more interested in the table than looking at Laura and confronting that twelve years after asking her to the prom, he was still attracted to his former stepmother.

"Thank you," said Lee. He meant that, at least. "I do forgive you. I already did. A long time ago. It's not your fault that I had a crush on you."

"I always liked your crush on me. It was flattering to my ego," Laura said with a half-hearted laugh. "Lee, could you look at me while we're talking?"

"I think I should go," said Lee quickly, standing up. Looking would be bad. Looking would tell Laura Roslin, ex-stepmom and reinvented rock star, that he was still harboring a crush. "Thanks for being cool about everything, tell KT I'm sorry I couldn't hang out and wait for her..."

"Lee!" Laura shouted, grabbing him by the arm. "Don't you kind of need me to call you a cab?"

"I just...I should go," Lee said, trying to shake her off.

"Oh, gods," said Laura softly, holding on. "You're still a little bit in love with me, aren't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Lee said with a snort.

"I'm not flattering myself so much as noticing the evidence," said Laura dryly.

Lee wished he was dead. That the planet itself would swallow him whole. The only way it could be worse was if his father was watching, about to tap on the front window in rage. And Lee was so certain that that was possible he looked. Closely.

"What are you doing?" Laura asked.

"Making sure my dad isn't outside, about to make a bad situation ludicrously worse in the way that only happens to, you know, me," Lee said, scanning the horizon.

There was dead silence, and then Laura started to laugh, and laugh so hard that Lee looked back at her, eyes closed as she rocked back and forth.

"I'm sorry, does my legendary bad luck amuse you?" Lee asked, trying to glare and finding it really frakking difficult when Laura was laughing this hard.

"Nooooo," Laura said, shaking her head. "More like the image of your father making his angry face -- the one he got his Silver Bail for, remember? When he was the judge in that TV movie, the overly earnest one -- as he stared into my house. And him doing the two finger tap-tap of manly disgust."

Lee cracked up. Because Laura was making Bill Adama's legendary anger face, except with a little grin that was sexy and funny.

"Lee William Adama," Lee intoned in parody of his father's voice. "I have certain expectations of my son, whether or not they fit with what you see in the industry. Under my roof, you will behave in a certain way."

Laura cracked up all over again. "Did you know, when he made that speech, he was stoned?" she asked, gesturing at Lee to sit down again. "I would have said something, but I was coked out of my mind. Or possibly on something else, but I was out of my mind."

"Were either of you _ever_ sober during my high school years?" Lee asked plaintively. "I mean, I guess it explains why you didn't like wearing pants around the house, but..."

"Oh, sweetheart," Laura said softly. "I am so, so, so very sorry. It took me a long time to hit bottom, you know. I was pretty sure I was going to end up dead before I got old, and hey, why not? I'd had a good run. Three really good albums, one or two songs that were perfect...sometimes it's awkward. Realizing that I spent a decade trying to burn out and hey, here I am. Still picking fights with rock stars and Bill."

Oh, gods, there were kind of sort of tears in her eyes. And Lee had himself under control, but he was still here, in Laura's living room, not sure of how he was supposed to feel about any of this. Pretty sure he wasn't supposed to feel like Laura was far, far hotter than Stacey from the label.

"Do you regret coming back?" Lee asked, finally sitting down again.

"No, I love it," Laura said with a laugh, ruffling her hair. "I mean, I'm going to have to bitch out my label for a homophobic slur about a band member's on-and-off girlfriend I didn't know she had, but not be too mean because the label guy's sleeping with my keyboardist. Then Ba-Noh, of all people, wants to frak me, and I'm weirdly drawn to my lead guitarist -- if you tell KT that, I will _eat your brain_ \-- but I feel like I have a purpose again."

"And next week, you have your first arena show in eight years," Lee said, remembering that during all the years in the mansion, the one thing Laura stayed consistent on was how much she loved the big arena performances, how the only _real_ music was played live. "How does that feel?"

Laura sighed, and sank back against the floor. "Better than doing a line," she said. "Not as good as sex. Do you know I've been celibate for a year?"

Danger. Danger, Lee Adama. He was not going to look at his ex-stepmom's breasts as they sort of stared him in the face. Or her bare feet.

"You? Celibate?" Lee asked, laughing. "That's impossible. You had more affairs than Dad, and Dad was frakking half the set and the maid."

"Believe it or not," Laura said.

"Well, I'd help you break the streak if you wanted, but if I did, KT would show up with my dad in tow, announcing loudly that it was time to kick GB's ass right when my pants came off," Lee said, rubbing his forehead ruefully.

"Lee," Laura said, rolling on to her side and peering at him over her glasses. "The woe-is-me self-deprecating, my dad continually ruins my life in comedy fashion tone is fantastic on your website. But please keep in mind that I know what you'd do if I said, 'oh Lee, please help me!' right now."

"What would I do?" Lee asked.

"Get rug burn in the name of the cause," Laura said, not missing a beat.

They were both staring each other down now, and Lee got a weird prickle down his back, realizing that Laura was actually considering asking him to frak her. This wasn't how he'd imagined it at all, either. Because in his fantasies, he never even thought no was an option, but in this case, Lee wasn't going to agree to rug burn if Laura went at him in a way to prove he'd do anything she wanted.

"I thought you didn't frak groupies," Lee heard himself say, thinking maybe he could dissolve the tension at his own expense. She didn't take the bait, and the prickle became sweat, despite Lee's dry mouth. Laura had her fingertips on her thigh, tapping on it lightly, still looking at him. "Say something."

"Something," she said softly, licking her lips.

Well. That was permission. Or something. And Lee had always wanted to do it, so he leaned over, awkward as hell, and kissed his ex-stepmother on the mouth. Slowly, because if this was his one shot, he wanted to remember it, how her head was tilted, how she leaned up to meet his mouth, how her hair felt under his hand as he supported her head.

"Gods," she whispered against his ear. "You're so sweet."

"Is that good or bad?" Lee whispered back.

"I don't know," Laura murmured quietly. "I think maybe you should do it again."

* * *

His voicemail button was blinking furiously and there were another six hundred unread messages in Lee's inbox when he closed the door to his apartment behind him.

He got himself a beer, and then settled down by the computer, scanning for names he recognized before filtering another set of horny pervs into his folders, the last few hours replaying in his head.

_Lee: Ellen Tigh at Needle Drop here. My assistants love your work at your website and for The Rutabaga's media reviews. I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing us a feature about Krypter's first live show, given your history with L. Roslin? Give me a call, we'll talk._

Given his history with Laura. Given that maybe three hours ago, he'd been undoing the drawstring on her songwriting pajamas, rolling them down slowly. They'd gone very slowly. Lee had liked that, too, kissing the tops of her thighs, breathing on the skin he'd licked to watch Laura jump and shiver.

_Hi, it's Stacey Dualla. Just wanted to say hi. Drop me a line whenever._

Not that Laura didn't have her own tricks.

"Like that?" she murmured, her hand on his dick and her mouth right next to his ear, nibbling at the nape of his neck and frak god damn.

"Yeah, like that."

Definitely not like his fantasies, where he had done most of the work and Laura had made a lot of noise and approved.

"How about this?" Lee asked later, his hands sliding over Laura's stomach and down as she straddled him.

"Harder," she said raggedly.

_"Lee, it's your father. I wanted to talk to you about how I behaved today to you and Kara. Call me or Tressa, we'll have lunch. Or spend the afternoon together on the set, if you'd prefer."_

Harder. He'd frakked her harder, digging his fingers into her back while Laura whimpered, her body moving up and down against his. But not faster. He'd been deliberate, and Laura had been impatient, face getting red, trying to go faster.

Lee had deeply underestimated how frakking good it would be to make Laura scream with want and frustration.

"That's right," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm gonna make it last."

She'd practically bitten through his lip when he said that, and that had almost gotten Lee off but somehow he'd persevered.

And listened to her moan his name when he succeeded at making her come, flushed and delighted.

_"Hey, bitch! I was expecting to see you at Laura's when I showed up for rehearsal. Where the hell did you go? Did your stepmom toss you out on your ass so she could frak Boom-ah? Call me, seriously. I kind of feel like a bitch for ditching you at your stepmom's, so maybe I'll get you front row tickets for the show and backstage passes. You can even bring Stacey-from-the-label."_

His tongue teased the edge of her breast, looking at the just-too-perfect nipples.

"Tattoos," Laura murmured, her hand carding his hair as they both caught their breath. "Nothing about my breasts are real any more. They did a double mastectomy."

"I'm sorry," he said, kissing the spot he'd just licked. "I didn't even realize until afterward that it had been that bad."

"I didn't want anyone to know it was that bad," Laura said. "What time is it? I think maybe you should disappear before rehearsal."

Lee chuckled, not nearly as stung at being tossed on his ass as he was expecting, especially because Laura didn't seem especially eager to kick him to the curb as he stroked her side.

"Don't worry, I have enough time to shower before I disappear," Lee said. "Are you good?"

"I'm good," Laura said. "How about you?"

"Really good. And sweaty," Lee said. "If you can have a cab here in fifteen minutes, I can be gone in sixteen."

_"Hi, Lee. Ellen Tigh at the Needle Drop again. I've just read some of your columns, and I decided to get your number and call you myself. Please call me as soon as you get this; if the feature goes well, we may have a staff job for you."_

Lee blinked. Needle Drop. Okay, so they weren't as influential as they were in the old days, but a staff gig with Needle Drop was nothing to sneeze at, especially for a guy whose claim to fame was, well, being Laura Roslin's stepson. He definitely needed to call Ellen Tigh, after he heard his last voicemail.

"Hi, it's me," Laura said in that tired, husky voice she got after singing her guts out for a few hours. "I know things ended a bit abruptly, so I thought I should call to check in."

Lee nodded along. Nice of her to check in. Weird, and vaguely stepmomlike, but nice.

"You know, you've infected me with the fear that your father will find out," she said conversationally, chuckling. "And I think that would be a shame, because I haven't done half the things to you that I'd like to."

Gods. Either Lee was being mocked heartily, or he'd just seen the best day of his life jump up yet another notch.

"I'm not joking. I mean, you understand we'd have to be careful. I think it'd be a good idea if you saw Stacey from the label a few times in public," Laura continued. "And if that isn't your bag, I understand. But...call me up, will you? I hate talking to machines."

She hung up, and Lee stared at his phone. It was shaking like it was being held by a nerdy website writer who'd just been told to call Laura frakking Roslin up to set up a secret sex affair type thing. After he called Ellen Tigh at Needle Drop to write a feature and maybe get a staff job. And after he called Stacey from the label and confirmed they were going out for drinks Friday.

And maybe after he called his dad and tried to talk to him. He was going to end up wasting a frakload of plan minutes, seriously.

Lee was staring at his phone when the familiar ting of a new message turned his attention to his email.

Subject: Cylons in Krypter  
From: anonymoustipster@colonymail.com

Gods. Even secondhand fame brought out the crazies. Just because the album was called Skinjob, too. People were nuts.

Lee had an actual feature to do about Krypter, not idle speculation that there were skinjobs in Laura's band.

But first, to the phone. He had calls to make.


	4. Part IV: KT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> KT likes being famous. Except for being in a fame-brawl she didn't know about. And how she has 99 problems, though her girlfriend ain't one.

**Transcript from "Good Morning Caprica City" with hosts Claiborne Roberts (CR) and Matteus Lauerii (ML). Thanks to karatfens.net.**

[Krypter Performance: Apocalipstick]  
 **CR:** We'll be right back with Krypter to ask about the new album and their new feud with Aimee Vinmaison after this commercial break.

[Commercial Break: 180 seconds]  
 **ML:** Good morning, Caprica City. We've got the beautiful and talented ladies of Krypter with us this morning. First, I have to say -- great song.  
 **Laura Roslin (LR):** Thanks, Matteus.  
 **ML:** So how does it feel, being back in the saddle after your lengthy hiatus?  
 **LR:** It feels fantastic, Matteus.  
 **ML:** And what about you four? It must be a dream of a lifetime, being picked out of obscurity to join the legendary Laura Roslin on the road as part of Krypter.  
 **Sharon Valerii (SV):** It's a pretty awesome feeling.  
 **Kara "KT" Thrace (KT):** To me, it's like, the payoff of years and years of practicing hard, even when not everyone was behind me.  
 **CR:** So your family wasn't supportive of your musical dreams?  
 **KT:** Claiborne, I walked out of that he-hole when I was sixteen and didn't look back.  
 **CR:** Oh, my. So, some tension there.  
 **KT:** [uncomfortable shift] You could say that.  
 **Deanna "d.Anna" Biers (DB):** I think our life stories, as tawdry as they may be, bring more to the music. It's what allows us to play with someone as accomplished as Laura.  
 **LR:** Nicely said, Deanna.  
 **ML:** Natasi, I notice you've been quiet. What's your favorite song off the album?  
 **Natasi Harvey (NH):** Ohhhh, I don't know. I like them all. Wired. I like Wired.  
 **DB:** Oh, that's because you get that solo bridge.  
 **NH:** Darn right.  
 **CR:** [chuckling] So, how do you feel about Aimee Vinmaison's latest blog entry? It's quite pointed about KT.  
 **KT:** Aimee who? [everyone laughs] I guess I say, people are always going to be jealous about fame.  
 **ML:** I guess those two triple-platinum albums aren't quite enough to scare you, then.  
 **KT:** Wait, someone actually famous hates me? I thought only my indie fans who spend all day on my online forums hated me. Who the [expletive deleted] is Aimee Vinmaison?  
 **LR:** You're such a kidder, KT.  
 **SV:** Yeah, really. I didn't think anyone didn't know who Aimee Vinmaison was.  
 **CR:** Well, we've got to get to the weather, so ladies, it was fantastic to have you. Krypter's new album, _Skinjob,_ is out in stores now.  
 **LR:** Thank you so much, Claiborne.

[Five minute commercial and weather break]

* * *

Seriously, KT's life as a rock star so far? Entirely erratic. One night, she wasn't paying for drinks and having threesomes with Louanne and Deanna and giving Lee shit. Two days later, she was embroiled in beefs with GB the record exec and this big-time Tauron soul singer, Aimee Vinmaison.

The worst part was that KT didn't know who the frak that was before now, or that she'd spilled her drink on Aimee at the release party. Or maybe before that. It was completely messed up that she was the last person to know about this.

And then she'd found out from those complete squares at Good Morning Caprica City, plus. Frakking crazy talk.

"Why didn't I know Aimee Vinmaison wants to kick my ass?" KT whined on the phone to Lee. "Aren't you supposed to be my gossip guy? You don't have a life or anything."

Lee started laughing. KT figured he was probably scoring with Stacey from the label and that made him cool. "You might be surprised."

"That you hooked it up with Stacey from the label?" KT asked, snorting. "No. No, I am not at all surprised."

"Oh, frak, you reminded me I need to call Stacey," Lee said. "But no, I have a gig with _Needle Drop_ to cover the opening show of your tour. Ellen Tigh herself talked to me."

Oh, her gods. Lee had a real job. A real job in media. Also, he had possibly scored with someone better than Stacey (who was impossible to call anything except Stacey-from-the-label in Kara's opinion), and KT had no idea who.

Seriously, everyone liked Lee, but the whole reason they thought he was sweet -- that he'd asked Laura out on planet-wide transmission -- was the same reason they didn't want to frak him.

But that was when KT's phone went off with GB's number and it was totally time to talk to his girlfrakking-hating self anyway.

"Gotta go," Kara said. "Tonight, I am making you tell me who you're frakking that isn't Stacey-from-the-label so I can tell the band, okay?"

"Sure, Kara," said Lee.

"Don't call me Kara," Kara said automatically. "Later, Lee. I'll make sure to tell your stepmom you're getting laid."

"I am sure that information will come as a shock to her," Lee replied. "Later, _Kara._ "

* * *

"I hate GB," KT announced, rolling into rehearsal forty-five minutes late entirely due to him. "No offense, Natasi."

Natasi waved lazily. "We all hate him sometimes. Why now?" she asked, tapping out a little melody on her keyboard.

"He says that I either need to escalate my confrontation with Aimee Vinmaison, or apologize to her in front of everyone," KT said. "I don't even remember spilling my drink on this bitch. I still don't even know who she is!"

Laura, Boomer, and d.Anna all tilted their heads and gave Kara similar expressions of disbelief.

"Babe, _I_ know who Aimee is," Laura said. "And I'm old. Remember when you yelled at me for not knowing all three famous girlfrakker rock bands who are really two semi-famous indie bands and one famous rock guitarist?"

"She's genuinely an awesome singer," Boomer added. "I mean, I know you're all about rock, but it wouldn't kill you to listen to jazz and soul on occasion, KT."

KT growled and picked up her drumsticks. "Don't we have a rehearsal for our Saturni Night performance rehearsal?" she asked. "Don't we want to sketch out solos and shit?"

Deanna chuckled evilly. "Aww, Kara don't like the spotlight so much today?" she asked.

Throwing d.Anna the finger of infamy, KT sat down at her drum kit and started beating out a staccato rhythm as fast as she could for a minute while everyone looked at her like she was a petulant child.

"Thank you, rhythm section," Laura said dryly when KT stopped. "Natasi, you know any of Aimee V's work?"

In response, Natasi started playing the keyboards. Sharon of course, who knew all music, picked up a melody, and d.Anna went with something like beat. KT tried not to listen while the rhythm played in her head. Dun-dah, dudun-DAH, ddun-DAH, dah dah dum, Dun-dah, dudun-DAH, dudun-DAH, dah-dah-dum...

"You go back to her and I go back to...I go back to...oh, I love you much...it's not enough, you love blow and I love puff..." sang Laura. "Oh, I'm already getting jokes about cover songs, why not sass it out more?"

"I think you should do a real stripped down version of the verses with a full-out chorus to transition into Brother Love Blues," Boomer said. "You...on the guitar for once, d.Anna on the bass, and Kara. Like this."

She started playing a very, very simple version of the melody, and d.Anna waited a whole two measures before kicking in.

"Faster," Laura said. "We are a rock band. Let's go for frenetic."

"How frenetic?" Boomer asked.

Laura picked up her guitar and started playing fast. Punk fast. KT liked it enough that she immediately added a drumbeat, hard and loud and pissed-off.

"Nice," Boomer said. "It would be even better if we had a symphony behind it."

Sharon had this unfortunate tendency to love spectacle rock; that, and her whole thing for the uniform were her only true weak points. That and the fact that KT had never heard of her on any scene she played on before she appeared out of nowhere to join Laura's band.

"No symphony. I am not about the hair metal, damn it," Laura said so that KT didn't have to. "Though a jazz musician or two for the chorus would be great...maybe after the dress rehearsal. And now, back to our own songs. As despite all the press hype of late, we are _not_ a cover band."

* * *

Playing had actually taken the edge off KT's incandescent rage that she was beefing with some alcoholic soul singer she hadn't ever heard of, and then Louanne had to go and open her fat frakking mouth.

"Why are you beefing with a bitch who doesn't even play rock?" Louanne asked. "Scared that you'd get beat by a _real_ rock star, Kara?"

"Frak you and die," Kara snapped. "I don't think I've even met with Aimee Vinmaison bitch. And now we're doing a cover of her song for one of our two songs for Saturni Night. I mean, it's an awesome punk-style cover and we even got Laura bouncing, but still, I think I should have met this random frak if I'm beefing with her."

"She left you a message on your machine," Louanne said. "Also, so did Lee. Is Lee getting laid? He's all chipper and less anti than usual."

KT shrugged. "I think he's banging Stacey from the label."

To Kara's surprise, Louanne shook her head vigorously. "No, Stacey from the label is actually banging Billy the publicist. I know because I ran into Billy at lunch and he was all upset because everyone thinks Stacey is banging Lee, but Stacey was on him last night," she said with a wicked chuckle. "He was so bright red. I think she's his first."

KT furrowed her brow. "But someone _is_ making Lee's penis happy. I know. Despite his long dry streaks, sex makes him smug as hell," she said. "Who would be better sexin' than Stacey who would actually frak him?"

"Maybe he frakked one of your bandmates," Louanne suggested. "What? Some of them aren't into other women, or so I've heard."

"Boomer only fraks uniforms," Kara said. "Natasi is frakking icky nasty GB. And d.Anna is all about hot women."

Louanne just rolled her eyes. She didn't even bring up the obvious, that Krypter equaled Laura Roslin, who KT didn't even include in her analysis of bandmates who would frak Lee Adama, because KT felt it was obviously not even a question.

"I wanna listen to your total owning by Aimee Vinmaison again," Louanne said. "It is classic."

KT would have ordered Louanne out of her apartment, but then she had to go and snuggle against KT in that way that made KT snuggle back.

"I've never been in a real famous person brawl before. I wanted to remember starting a feud, you know?" KT sulked, pressing play on her machine.

"Was that you tryin' to sound clever on the message? Gods, I hope not, coz you failed something fierce, mate," a broad Tauron accent informed KT. "Look, cunt, I know you know we've got unfinished bid-ness, right, coz I saw your stupid-lookin' face this mornin' hearing all about how stupid you are. Made m'day, watchin' you almost cry coz you can't even remember what you done. And you think you're hard? You're about as hard as butter!"

"Oh, please," KT said. "That's not an owning. That's taunting. I don't respond to taunting."

Louanne started laughing hard. "Oh, whatever, you so plan to kick her ass now," she said.

"Well, yeah," KT replied, rolling her eyes. "But that's to reclaim my dignity, not because I care that she called me hard as butter. What does that even mean? At least I don't have a tasty breakfast of booze and crack followed by an eyeliner overdose every day."

Her girlfriend patted her on the shoulder. "That's right, honey. You tell that Aimee Vinmaison and her phone messages," she said. "Cuz you're hard. Hard like a stale loaf of bread."

Kara looked up at the sky, hands uplifted to the gods. "Why me? Did I upset you somehow?" she asked. "Why you gotta give me a rivalry I don't even remember and the mouthiest hoochie of a second-rate drummer to love? Huh?"

And when Louanne pouted and laughed at the same time, KT almost forgot that she still couldn't remember why Aimee Vinmaison hated her. Because seriously. She had no idea at all.

* * *

"Sometimes, famous people grudges are like that," said Laura, her glasses completely incongruous as she hummed, worked on her cover of the Aimee Vinmaison song, and chewed on the end of her pencil. "Remind me to tell you about the whole ten year thing I had with Deb because I stole her beer some time."

She had been very philosophical and chill over the last couple of days. If KT was a betting woman, and didn't know better, she'd think Laura was getting laid.

"You at least stole a beer. I didn't even do that. I don't think I should have to apologize for shit I didn't do, though," KT replied. "You know?"

"Sure," Laura said. "Is that a new tattoo?"

"Maybe," KT said, rubbing her upper arm sheepishly. "I was just...annoyed this afternoon. I needed to get it out somehow."

"Okay," Laura said. "Is it safe for the Saturni Night audience, or are you going to have to wear sleeves? Because as I recall, you hate wearing sleeves when you're drumming, girl."

"Just the woman symbol," KT said sheepishly. "It's for my girl, y'know?"

"I know," said Laura, smiling slightly.

"Are you getting some?" asked KT. "You are like, so mellow that you're almost comatose. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy if you're happy, but I do have to wonder what's up with you?"

Laura paused and looked directly at KT. "I get to perform in front of an audience," she said, almost growling. "It's been a long, long time. And I _cannot wait_ to show every last prick of a critic who thinks I've gone soft that I didn't stop being a rock star because I dared to perform after forty."

"Is it really that good for you?" KT asked.

"Better," Laura replied breathlessly. "Ask Bill, sometime, if you don't believe me about how powerful it can be. It's one of the few things we agreed about even after things went bad."

KT nodded, noticing that Laura had very, very deftly avoided the question. Interesting. So now she had two mystery lovers to unravel...was it that Laura and Sharon had finally ended one of those late-night jam sessions with drunken makeouts? Lee had probably just found one of the nerd girls who thought he was a sex god to take home, but Laura...well, that could be very, very interesting...

* * *

"So we come on before the Real News?" Natasi asked, perched on a craft services table and talking to one of the writers for Saturni Night. "I love that part -- that's always the funniest part of the show, especially when Teena did it."

Who knew that Natasi harbored a small girl-crush on Teena Fay? KT had never guessed that Natasi actually cared about anything other than being hot and trying to get GB to stay faithful to her -- a losing proposition, as far as everyone could tell.

The writer was looking at Natasi's tits, of course, because somehow, no matter how many famous women he'd written for, spoken to, and seen, he was apparently one of those who kept it real by acting like a basement-dwelling virgin.

"Yep, that's what you do," he said. "Is it cool, playing in a band with La Roslin?"

Natasi shrugged. "She's the real deal, yeah," she said. "But who cares? I mean, if I were you, I'd spend all my time gawking around at the celebrities who work here!"

"Oh, I do," the writer replied. "So, hey, you're the drummer chick, right?"

KT nodded, gripping her cola tightly. "Yeah, I'm KT. Why?"

"Is it true that Aimee Vinmaison wants to kick your ass and left you some crazy phone message?" he asked.

"Yeah," KT said. "I don't even remember what happened, to tell the truth. I think she may have hallucinated the whole gods-damned thing."

The writer licked his lips and nodded. "Yeah. Well. Yeah. Would you be offended if we're doing a sketch about that, and we actually might, may have, gotten Aimee Vinmaison to be in the sketch?"

KT choked. "Are you serious?"

"Um. Fair warning. Please don't hurt me," the writer said, cowering as Natasi and KT glowered at him in unison.

"This never would have happened under the aegis of Teena Fay!" Natasi said, causing the writer to bust up laughing.

"Are you kidding me? There was absolutely nothing Teena liked more than a chick fight," he said, shaking his head and pulling out his phone. "No, really. I will call her _right now_ on her set and tell her to explain to you the glorious wonderment that is a girl fight."

Natasi full-out pouted. "I hate being famous!" she wailed. "It demystifies every last person you admire."

"Oh, _no,_ Teena Fay loves chick fights. Your world is totally askew," KT said, deadpan. "Let's not forget these frakhammers brought _Aimee Vinmaison_ on the show to start some shit with me."

The writer made an apologetic gesture. "Saturni Night is the land of assholes, man," he said.

"Yeah, frak that," KT said. "I'm gonna go to my dressing room now. Because this rock star is not pleased with you assholes at all."

* * *

"We need to find Laura _right now,_ " KT snarled, stomping into her dressing room. "Aimee is here. She is going to be in a _sketch._ I want to know how just like with Good Morning Caprica City, everyone in the solar system knows this before me. Do they want that drunk bitch to glass me in the face for laughs or something?"

"Aww, baby," Louanne said, looking up from sheet music. "Nobody wants that. You're far too hot to get glassed."

KT grinned, but pulled Louanne to her feet insistently. "We find Laura now. She needs to put a stop to these shenanigans," she said. "Also, if we run into Aimee Vinmaison in the hall, we're going to roll her and steal her wallet. That should make GB happy."

Louanne looked like she had a whole novel's worth of retorts about why she had no interest in making Gaius Baltar happy, with which KT mostly agreed, but she swallowed them and they went wandering around the Saturni Night offices, sets, and finally the stage where the first guests were going to be ushered in about half an hour later.

"Oh. My gods," Louanne whispered, gouging KT in the ribs.

"What?" KT asked. "Is it Aimee?"

Louanne's eyes were glassy as she shook her head. "KT, oh my gods, oh my gods, look over there and shut the frak up, bitch," she said, pointing. "Oh. MY GODS."

KT swiveled, expecting to see like, GB having sex with Aimee Vinmaison, or members of the band revealing themselves as Cylons. Because those things were believable. Or plausible.

Totally not plausible was Lee with his hand down Laura's jeans, his mouth on her neck. And yet KT's eyes were sending that info to her brain. Oh, frak, he was licking her earlobe!

"Did Aimee Vinmaison hit me really hard in the head?" KT whispered. "Did we kill a bottle of ambrosia I don't remember? Maybe d.Anna shared some of her fun drugs?"

Louanne shook her head, nudging Kara hard. "Oh my gods, he's going to go down on her just before the audience shows up," she hissed. "Frak, isn't he like her son? I mean, he's hot in kind of a butch girl way. But he's twenty years younger than her and kind of a puss. And like, her son!"

"Stepson and oh my gods. Bill is going to. Bill is going to--" KT made a face, throwing her hands up in the air and wiggling her fingers. "There will have to be large checks written to charities, is all I'm saying."

It was worse than a train wreck. Because it was kind of hot. Maybe it was even hotter because of the whole ex-stepmother thing, or because they were into it, they were both into it big time. Blood was rushing into Kara's cheeks, and Louanne's mouth hung open, shamelessly gawking.

"It turns me on a little," she said. "I mean, Lee wanting to be someone's pretty boy toy, that's obvious. Laura having a big ol' exhibitionist streak? Semi-obvious. But I wouldn't have pegged her as someone who got off on the sheer chutzpah of it all."

"And I wouldn't have guessed you liked to watch, but here you are, getting wet," KT replied, attention drawn away from Lee and Laura's performance by something much, much juicier. "Did you like watching when I was with d.Anna, babe?"

Louanne's teeth grazed across her lower lip in a naughty sly smile. "There was so much _pretty_ to see and touch," she replied coyly, slightly baby-voiced and definitely hungry.

KT leaned forward and kissed the side of her neck before biting on it lightly. "I know what pretty I wanna touch," she whispered, licking the outside of Louanne's ear for good measure. "But I don't think it's any fun to play all exposed when I have a nice lockable dressing room with a nice soft chair to put you on."

Her hand slipped around and cupped one of Louanne's breasts, squeezing. Louanne made kittenish mews, rubbing back eagerly. Kara pinched on the point of nipple hidden just beneath her girlfriend's clothes hard...and then let go.

"Oh, come the frak on, Kara," Louanne whined.

"Come with me, or don't come," KT answered brutally. "I don't feel like watching Lee get laid."

"Yeah, I'm sure that you're pissed at Laura for frakking Lee," Louanne said, reluctantly turning away and leaning against Kara.

"Yeah, well, maybe I think they're both stupid," KT said, pouting. "And crazy. Did I mention crazy? Totally crazy."

Louanne put her hand on KT's mouth. "Save it for practice, bitch," she said. "Or for when you next run into Aimee Vinmaison and want to sass back. I just want to see you perform for me tonight, and know that you can't wait to finally get me off."

KT bit down on Louanne's finger and sucked it into her mouth. Oh, yeah, now her baby had her going just the way she wanted.

"I want you waiting for me after the show," KT murmured as they wandered away from the strangely compelling wrongness. "Because I'm going to be so good tonight that you're going to be wet before I lay a finger on you."

"Brag," Louanne said.

"Oh, yeah," KT said, kissing the other girl on the mouth. "My ass will pay the check my mouth is writing, baby. Just you wait and see."

* * *

They were waiting backstage together, watching the sketches on a monitor. Laura and Sharon were smoking a cigarette together (well, Laura was watching Sharon smoke and rubbing her fingers together with the twitch of a denied smoker), d.Anna was twisting her hands around and around, and Natasi was doing her meditation-slash-prayer thing that she did to get "centered."

KT was bouncing, looking at Laura, looking away, and then looking back.

"You're being pretty good for someone who's about to be roasted on live television," d.Anna said. "Even before she gets to make her live television debut."

"I got things on my mind. Plus, I made a promise to Louanne that I was gonna play so good she'd be squirming before we finished the first song," KT said, tapping out the rhythm on the edge of a table. "So I found out, you know, who Lee's frakking."

"Not Stacey-from-the-label?" Sharon asked, looking up.

"No. Not Stacey from the label," KT said with a vigorous nod. "Stacey from the label is doing Billy Kekeiya."

"Who, then?" Natasi asked, unwinding and stretching out, graceful as a dancer. "I am a little bit curious. Lee's a nice guy, but..."

KT glanced at Laura, who wasn't even sweating.

"You don't even care, do you?" KT asked her, tilting her head slightly.

"Lee's an adult," Laura said with a serene shrug. "I'd say his sex life was his business. Not his father's, and not yours."

"Oh, come on, was it like, Teena Fay or something?" Natasi asked curiously. d.Anna was shifting her gaze between Laura and KT, and rolled her eyes expressively. _She_ got it, at least. "Wait. Oh, frak, I just now got it. I'm _so bad_ at reading everyone's subtext."

"I'm worse!" Sharon said, flailing slightly. "I have no idea what anyone is talking about, besides that Lee apparently had sex with someone really cool or really frakked up, and Laura thinks that KT is being immature by bringing it up."

"You are sometimes so naive that it hurts to know you, Boomer," d.Anna said. "Just keep being the best guitarist in the world, because then you never have to understand overtones, babe."

"D.Anna, just because Sharon doesn't immediately realize that KT was practically bouncing to tattle on me and Lee doesn't mean she's naive," Laura said. "Also, you are all completely harshing the incredible high I am on, and if I don't have the best performance in a decade, I am going to be very disappointed."

Boomer's mouth made a little O. But not, to her credit, for the reason everyone else would've.

"Oh, hey, isn't that Aimee Vinmaison on the monitor?" she asked, pointing. The band turned around, blinking.

"Oh, yeah, they brought her on to make fun of me," KT said with a shrug. "I was going to tattle about the shenanigans, and I kind of stumbled onto lead singer happy fun time."

"Oh, holy crap, I don't think they're making fun of you, KT," Boomer said breathlessly.

Laura shifted suddenly. "Well. Not exactly," she said. "Excuse me, I'm on."

She practically flew out of the room before the PA could cue her, leaving him staring at the rest of the band, who was staring at the monitor.

"Is she defusing the situation for me?" KT asked in a tiny voice.

"Yes, yes she is," Sharon said. "She really sleeping with Lee?"

"Yes, yes she is," KT said.

"You're kind of a bitch, KT," Sharon said.

"I know," KT said, noticing that Laura had excellent comic timing and did the soused rock star persona a little too well. "So I'm going to rock so hard that she forgives me."

"I think that might be wise," d.Anna said, snorting with amusement. "Hey, who here knew Laura was funny? I didn't know that."

* * *

Her shirt stuck to her skin.

It had been the best performance of her life. The Saturni Night audience had gone wild, their cheers still echoing in KT's ears.

Maybe the gods had intervened. It had certainly felt god-like, that trip on the drums. The sticks had become instruments of the gods in her hands, sweat flying off her brow while Boomer tore into a riff that dove off a cliff and then leveled into sweet perfection against the hard-driving bass, and the ways Natasi worked synth in hadn't been annoying, it had been dirty, it had been funk to inspire KT harder and Laura, oh gods, Laura had taken that mic stand and made love to it.

And frakking hell, of course Aimee V would be waiting for her in the corridors on the way to her nice dressing room and naked girlfriend.

"I'm sorry I spilled a drink on you, but considering your best love songs are about booze, I don't get why you're so frakking pissed," KT growled. "So unless you wanna rumble, step the frak off, Aimee."

Aimee Vinmaison would have been a tiny woman, were it not for the enormous tower of black hair sitting atop her head, elaborately coiffed. That, plus her perma-snarl and eyeliner, gave her a heft that she didn't really deserve, being scrawny and tiny. Also, Kara was impressed to see that Aimee had more tattoos than she did, and Kara loved tats.

"You stupid cunt, we've never met before in our lives," Aimee replied, rolling her eyes. "I planted that rumor of your audacious behavior because the gossip hags would believe it and I needed an excuse to talk to you."

KT's face creased into annoyed disbelief. "Bitch, _we're both super-famous,_ " she replied, trying not to punch the woman for harshing her buzz. "I'm sure our people could have conferenced and we could have gotten freak-wasted together without dubbing me the club-drink brawler in the meantime."

"Your entire band except for you is Cylon," Aimee said. "I'm trying to warn you, cow. It's your frakking destiny, and I don't think you should give a girl lip for trying to help you with your destiny and somefink. Slag."

"My entire band is Cylon?" KT sneered. "Hey, Aimee, next time they tell you to go to rehab, how about saying yes, yes, yes?"

"Oh, I ain't heard that before," Aimee said. "Are you listening to me, now? Your band is all Cylons, mate. All of them. You are the one bitch in all the universe who can stop them. And you're trying to take the piss, you silly moo?"

"I don't much cotton to hearing about how my friends and bandmates are Cylons from a drunken, drug-addled elf with enormous hair when I could be in my dressing room, getting frakked by my incredibly hot girlfriend," snarled Kara. "And I sure as hell don't have a destiny, _mate._ So frak off."

KT wouldn't do anything so exciting as knock the bitch down, but she did elbow Aimee Vinmaison right out of her way and continued on her way, despite Aimee Vinmaison shouting, "I told that wanker Leo you didn't give two shits about no Cylons, but I had to tell you or he wouldn't fix me up, innit? But you talk to Leo. He's your girl D's dealer...he'll tell you. See if he doesn't."

"Whatever," Kara snarled, kicking the door of her dressing room open, pulling off her shirt and throwing it into the hall. "Hey, you."

Louanne didn't seem to be wearing a shirt. Or a bra. And she had her hands running up and over her tits.

"I almost came when you did that solo during Get Back," she said quietly. "I couldn't stop licking my lips the whole time. It was good, Kara, it was way good."

KT closed the door and grinned. "I think we can make it way, way better," she said, shimmying the jeans off her hips. "Come here."

They could try to make her have a destiny, but Kara was not going to go, go, go.

* * *

There was a lot of moaning after that. KT made sure not to get so drunk or bombed that she lost any part of the experience of sweaty skin, bite marks all over the most sensitive patch of Louanne's thighs...

They had found this hot-as-frak girl at an after-hours club, Kendra something, with angry dark eyes and a faux-hawk, and hips that were as fluid as smoke, writhing as her heels dug into Louanne's back, wrists caught in KT's grasp.

And they'd wandered home to KT's place in the cool air of a Caprica City autumn, practically steaming, coats thrown open as Louanne turned dizzy circles, giggling madly as they stumbled toward the apartment.

"Love you," Louanne said. "Wanna stay up all night with you."

"Oh yeah?" KT asked, seizing Louanne by the waist and pulling her in, devouring that smart mouth with hers. "I'm game if you are."

They'd fallen hard against her mattress, her skinny little mattress-on-the-floor that counted as her bed, because that's how Kara rolled, tearing each other's clothes off.

The upshot of it was that KT forgot all about Aimee Vinmaison. And sleep. And about anything other than how good it was to be a rock star.

* * *

"So," said Boomer to KT the next afternoon. "I heard that you actually ran into your nemesis last night. What did she have to say for herself?"

"That all you bitches are Cylons and it's my destiny to give you the beat-down," KT replied, sipping on a mineral water.

Boomer blinked. KT didn't get it; Boomer looked spooked about something instead of laughing. Cuz what, they were all Cylons now?

"She said we're all Cylons?" she asked, half-stammering. "But...hasn't Laura been famous for decades? I thought bio-Cylons didn't get developed until...that's dumb. Aimee isn't very smart, is she?"

"Well, she said her frakking dealer, this guy named Leo, told her to tell me, so she was probably coked out of her brain," KT said with a shrug as Boomer froze stiff. "What?"

"Oh my frakking god. Gods," Boomer said, her mouth dropping slowly. "Oh my frakking gods, that guy Leo? The twitchy skinny one who deals to d.Anna? Oh my gods, KT. Did you even turn on a vidscreen this morning?"

"Seriously, what?" KT asked, exasperated. "Look, some of us frakked our way across last night in a booze and Aimee Vinmaison beating down haze, okay?"

And why was Boomer giving KT shit anyway? Because KT was screwing around? Whatever: Sharon was a serial fleet-frakker. She had totally jumped on this guy, Galen, and when he was out in the black, she was getting on this other dude, Helo, who was a cool guy for military. He kept joking KT would be a badass fighter pilot and stuff.

Gods help them if they ever saw Sharon during fleet week.

"They arrested d.Anna's dealer. And then totally revealed him as a Cylon," Boomer said. "Also, two things. I think I'm pregnant, and I kind of think maybe I'm a Cylon."

Kara, who was mid-swallow on her water, choked all over the table and their organic, super-healthy salads they were eating to power-cleanse.

"I...I...there are no words, Sharon. None. Why would you think you're a Cylon, you dumb-ass hooker? What, do you have an evil twin who follows you around?" KT said with a sneer. "Did you take d.Anna's special drugs?"

Sharon somehow did not seem to realize that she was completely supposed to admit to drug use or a prank. Seriously. That guy from 'Pranked' needed to show up with his pretty hair and small brain before KT's heart beat right through her chest.

"Did you SEE her?" Sharon asked uneasily. "I have a stalker. Who looks like me. And who I know, in my head, wants to kidnap me and take my place in the band."

"This isn't funny, Boomer," KT snarled.

"I know. I think...I think we need to talk to everyone," Boomer said. "Because I don't know. Maybe there's a reason we've been drawn together."

"Because everyone in our band is a Cylon, a girlfrakker, or both? Because the gods, or your crazy-ass one god, needed a girlfrakking Cylon band?" KT asked. "Kara Thrace and the Destiny Dykes. I am sure that's likely."

Sharon's face was expressionless. "It's not funny, KT. I really think it might be true," she said. "At least, I think I am. And I think I need to tell everyone about the stalker."

So did KT.

"Fine," KT said. "But unless you want to find yourself in permanent rehab, I wouldn't let anyone on the label...or either of your potential babydaddies...even guess what you were thinking."

"Fine," Sharon said curtly. She didn't seem happy, which was fair, because KT wouldn't be happy if she were a pregnant Cylon with a clone stalker, but KT was just trying to help.

"Fine," KT retorted, sinking back into her chair.

Gods, why her? Was it so wrong to have the simple goal of rocking out, having lots of slippery hot sex with Louanne and various accessories (including other hot women), and not being three months behind on rent doing it?

Fame. Awesome except for the part where it stank all the time.


End file.
